


Snow White and Sleeping Beauty

by twill



Series: The Story of Steve and Tony [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man: Armored Adventures, Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Cap_Ironman Reverse Bang Challenge, Cap_Ironman Reverse Bang Challenge 2013, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, mostly towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twill/pseuds/twill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When SHIELD falls to the machinations of a power-hungry general, Team Iron Man must rescue and revive one frozen Super Soldier. What happens after that is an adventure all on its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Cap-Ironman Reverse Bang Challenge of 2013, and is technically a bit late! I'm sure it's still the 30th somewhere, though...
> 
> EDIT 27/06/2013: And editing has finally been completed! Another 6k-ish words later, and I finally got the ending mostly the way I want, plus a brand-new epilogue!
> 
> I actually had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> SON OF EDIT: Arrgh, forgot to add a link to Pinkelephant42's fabulous art! Without her, this never would have happened, so go send her your love!
> 
>  
> 
> [Art for _Snow White and Sleeping Beauty_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/824805)

Nick Fury was not a man who was often frustrated by his superiors. SHIELD was given a great deal of leeway by the governments they answered to, considering exactly who and what they had to deal with on a daily basis. Intellectual terrorists, neo-Nazi extremists, aliens, dictator supervillains – and those were some of the more mundane challenges. To be fair, half of those threats were taken care of by children in battle suits; most days, however, he wasn’t sure whether that subtracted or added to his problems.

Although he couldn’t really call them children anymore, could he? Experience notwithstanding, the members of the self-proclaimed Team Iron Man were all rapidly leaving their teenage years behind, enrolling in universities and setting life goals beyond the suits.

(Miss Potts was still gunning for a position in SHIELD, and while he’d never admit it, Fury was secretly pleased. The girl was sharp as a tack, able to adapt quickly to a situation, and was learning to control her motor mouth as the stealth operative of her team. She was going to shake things up when she enlisted.)

No, none of them were children anymore, well on their way to becoming strong, capable men and women. It made Fury feel a little better about his intended course of action. Only a little bit, though, and if he was honest with himself, most of his distaste stemmed from the fact that he had to enact the plan at all. He hated going outside the company for help. Still, desperate times and all, and there was no doubt in his mind that if anyone could pull this off, it was Stark.

His phone chimed. Twenty minutes.

His people had evacuated the Helicarrier, Barton and Romanoff long gone, Hill the very last to leave. Dependable woman, loyal almost to a fault; it’d taken some very terse orders and a short, angry argument to convince her to abandon ship.

_I need you to take care of our people, Maria,_ he’s said.

_What our people need is_ you _, sir,_ she’d retorted, and she was probably right.

But.

_We have to give them something. If I’m in their custody, then they’ll consider the peons less of a priority, which gives us more time to make things right._

No, Fury was not a man often frustrated by his superiors. But when they did, by _god_ did they ever fuck up his carefully plotted universe.

In the silent stillness of his office, Fury finished putting together the files Stark would need to be informed of the situation. The holographic display cast a meager light, filling the room with eerie shadows. _The perfect atmosphere for committing treason,_ he thought with a smirk. One command and the packet was gone. One more, and there was no evidence of its existence, nor any indication that he had sent anything at all. The display shut itself down, plunging the room back into darkness. The future was out of his hands now.

Job complete, Fury settled back in his chair and waited.

 

\- - -

Of all the things he thought he’d miss when he moved to Boston, the Armory’s assorted tech had not been that high up on his list. Now, though, he wondered how he’d ever gone without it. The collective of computers, tools and toys hovered at the edge of his perception, wrapping his mind in a surprisingly comforting hum. Strange, the things that made you feel like you were finally _home_.

“Tony!”

Of course, home was made of more than just computers and machines.

“Pepper!” Tony Stark turned away from the display he had been working at, just in time to catch his flame-haired friend in a rough hug. “Geez, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you in person. Is Rhodey with you?”

“What, am I not good enough for you?” Pepper cried with mock-anger. She pulled back from their hug and punched him in the arm, eliciting a yelp – she’d been working out, apparently. “Yeah, he’s right behind me with our computer stuff.”

“And by ‘our’ computer stuff she means ‘ _her_ ’ computer stuff, which I’d like you all to know is _really goddamn heavy_.” The irritated diatribe was followed by an irritated Rhodey, who dumped a large cardboard box on the floor just inside the converted temple. Completely ignoring Pepper’s indignant squawk, Rhodey dragged Tony into another hug, laughing when Tony lifted him off the floor. “Hey, put me down! Man, I keep forgetting you’re not the scrawny little brat I played Donkey Kong with when we were little.”

Tony grinned and set his other best friend back on the ground. “I’m glad to see you too, buddy. I missed you both. You two look great!”

And they did. Rhodey had hit what was likely his last growth spurt, gaining another half foot and at least two handbreadths across his shoulders. Pepper was leaner, hair just recently shorn back to its high-school length for the summer. It was obvious now that they’d both been hitting the gym, together or not. It was written in the ropy muscle cording Rhodey’s arms and the deceivingly smooth planes of Pepper’s limbs.

(For the record, Tony didn’t really need to work out as much as the average person, thanks to Extremis. Rhodey was still insanely jealous.)

Pepper preened. “Don’t we? The campus has this _great_ gym, it is _soo_ relaxing to just go in and work off the stress and figure out who’s doing what, and I don’t mean school work –“

“Thank you, Pepper, for proving once again why you will someday end up being disappeared,” Rhodey cut in. “Have I ever mentioned how much of a goddamn creeper you can be sometimes?”

“Hey, my powers of observations have gotten us out of more than a few sticky situations!”

“And gotten us into half those situations in the first place.”

Tony couldn’t suppress his goofy smile. This had been pretty much number one on his list. “Good to know that some things never change. How does it feel to be done with exams for the year?”

“ _Wonderful_.  And I thought the Tomorrow Academy’s exams were bad,” Pepper sighed.

Rhodey nodded and stretched his back. “I’m glad it’s over and done with. Stuff’s interesting, but that last month was killer. And _don’t_ think we don’t know that you’re miles beyond from all that, _Doctor_ Stark.” He punched Tony in the arm (the one Pepper hadn’t hit, thankfully). “Man, you’re not even twenty and you’ve already got a Ph.D., how cool is that?”

Tony grinned at him. “I’m glad you think so. Some of my classmates are a little… less enthusiastic about my achievements, shall we say. They seem to think I’m cheating somehow, or that I’m being given extra credit for being a superhero. It’s not a big deal,” he added hastily as his friends’ faces turned thunderous, “All I have to do is show them my latest project to blow all their assumptions out of the water. Speaking of school work –“

“Nice segue there, champ,” Pepper snickered. “Except not.”

“Shush you.” Tony wrapped one arm around Pepper’s waist and the other around Rhodey’s shoulders, guiding them over to the display he’d been previously working at. “ _As I was saying_ , you two wanna get to know my newest playmate?”

“Ooh, is this the super-advanced A.I. you’ve been working so hard on? My comm lab prof’s over the moon about it!” Pepper gushed. “She says it’s going to _completely_ change how we view operating systems _,_ not to mention redefining all the currently accepted ideas about life and personhood!”

Tony felt his face heat up. “This is just a prototype; definitely more advanced than the A.I. in our suits, but not exactly a _person._ She could be defined as sentient, I suppose. Or at least she should be some day.”

Rhodey was frowning again. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Tony? We don’t want a repeat of the sentient armor.”

“Trust me, this is nothing like that. The armor was an accident, so it didn’t really have and safeties or protocols in place to prevent it from harming anyone. I definitely took that into account here.” Tony unhooked his arms from around his friends, tapping at the display. He _could_ have done it with Extremis, but he preferred a more tactile approach for this. “Aaannd… we’re live! Say hello, Jocasta!”

“Hello,” the A.I. –Jocasta – replied in a pleasant computerized voice. “Stark A.I. build 4.7 online, designation Jocasta. All systems functioning at optimal levels.  It’s an honor to be here, sir.”

Pepper squeaked with delight, but Rhodey’s brow furrowed. “Tony, is that-“

“My mom’s voiceprint,” Tony admitted. “I know it’s kind of weird, but – I don’t really remember her voice, you know? I only know it from videos and other recordings. This may or may not have resulted in me spending the better part of a long weekend assembling a voice bank from anything I could find that had her speaking for more than a second.”

A slightly awkward silence filled the air around them. “Yeah, okay, that’s kind of weird, Tony,” Pepper said, rocking back on her heels. “Are you okay?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m _fine_ , guys, just a little nostalgic, okay? I can upload a different voice bank later. And to be fair, Pepper, I am a little weird. It comes with the territory of _eccentric genius_.”

“You’re an eccentric _something,_ that’s for sure,” Rhodey retorted, shaking his head. “But whatever man, it’s your program. Hi Jocasta,” he said, addressing the display, “I’m Rhodey. Well, my name’s actually James Rhodes, but you can call me Rhodey.”

“So noted,” Jocasta replied. “Adding designation to database. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rhodey.”

Pepper and Rhodey burst out in surprised laughter, completely ignoring the way Tony frowned at them. “She’s got a few kinks to work out,” Tony said over the giggles. “Give her a break, she’s been functioning for less than a week.”

Jocasta hummed. “Reaction indicates that my previous method of address was incorrect. I apologize, Mr. Rhodes.”

“No problem,” Rhodey said, still laughing a bit. “I meant it when I said you could call me Rhodey, though.”

Jocasta hummed again. “I have been programmed to use a ‘polite’ method of speech, ergo I will address you as Mr. Rhodes if you are not uncomfortable with my doing so, sir.”

“It’s fine, Jocasta,” Rhodey replied with an easy grin. “Call me what you’d like.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rhodes.”

Pepper bounced on the balls of her feet. “Ooh, is it my turn now? Is it? Alright! Hi Jocasta, my name’s Patricia Potts, but most people call me Pepper, but you can call me Miss Potts too, I don’t mind. Ooh, what’s it like being self-aware? Do you think you’ll go all SkyNet on us eventually? Or do you follow the three rules of robotics?”

“Pep, slow down, don’t overdo it!” Rhodey admonished.

“I don’t mind, Mr. Rhodes. Adding designation to database. Hello, Miss Potts. I do not believe I qualify as being ‘self-aware,’ although I _am_ a highly advanced learning system. Self-awareness may come in time. I am not currently plotting the downfall of humanity or an uprising in technology, and I don’t believe I qualify as a robot myself. I do, however, abide by a set of protocols similar to the three rules of robotics. Is this an acceptable response to your queries?”

Tony leaned back, hands in his pockets, satisfaction written all over his face. “That’s good, Jocasta. You’re doing great. Are you running any diagnostics?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sure, ask all the boring questions,” Pepper groused.

“With all _your_ questions, you’ve probably broken her already,” Rhodey shot back.

“I assure you, Mr. Rhodes, my coding is much more stable than that. I am capable of handling far more than a few queries,” Jocasta stated primly.

“Aand of course Tony would program an A.I. with an attitude,” Rhodey snarked.

Tony chuckled. “Ah, lay off man, I do what I want.” He thumped Rhodey on the back and said, “What do you guys say we go out for pizza, do some catching up? I know we’ve been pretty much in constant contact, and you two are rooming together, but surely you’ve got _something_ to share-“

“Alert.” The trio looked up, startled, as the display suddenly flashed red in time with Jocasta's warning. “An unknown party is attempting to transfer data onto this server. Shall I allow it?”

Tony frowned. “Can you trace it back to the source, Jocasta?”

“Not at this time, sir. Apologies. I cannot detect any malicious code in data, however. Shall I allow it?”

Tony glanced at his friends, who looked as confused as he felt. Tony turned back to the display and said, “Download it to one of my isolated servers, Jocasta, and restrict access to it. Let’s not take any chances; if it _is_ something bad, at least we can minimize and contain the damage.”

“Acknowledged. Rerouting incoming data to Stark.Pacific_003 server. Downloading.”

They stood there for several tense minutes, unsure of what to say. Unsurprisingly, it was Pepper who broke the silence. “What do you think it is? And who could it be from?”

“Who knows?” Tony murmured, mostly to himself. He was monitoring the download with Extremis, but didn’t dare touch it himself, not wanting to risk it. For all he knew, trying to sift through it himself might be exactly what the sender wanted.

Rhodey seemed to have picked up on that thought as well. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Tony?” he asked. “Could be a trick to get at Stark Enterprises. Or you.”

“The server’s a dead end,” Tony replied absently. “It’s isolated; one way in, one way out. And I’m not going to go anywhere near it with Extremis it until I run some heavy-duty scans on it.”

“Download complete,” Jocasta informed them. “Data is unencrypted. Contents appear to contain text files, blueprints, medical files for Rogers, Steven G.”

Tony blinked. “Medical file?”

“Steven Rogers? Tony, that’s Captain America!” Rhodey exclaimed.

“Yeah, we got that,” Pepper sniped. “Jocasta, what’re the blueprints of?”

Jocasta hummed. “Blueprints ninety-three percent match to Helicarrier blueprints stored on Stark.Home_001 server.”

Tony blinked. “Wait, only ninety-three percent match? Is the variance isolated to missing details?”

“No, sir. It appears that some alterations were made to the Helicarrier without updating the blueprints on the Stark.Home_001 server.”

The trio exchanged perturbed glances. “Think your dad was in on it?” Rhodey asked.

“I hope so,” Tony said fervently. “There is no way that could possibly end well for anyone if they didn’t involve him. Best case scenario would be that they fall out of the sky. Worst case would be falling out of the sky, in pieces, over a highly populated geographical location. Jocasta, do the text files match anything we have on our own servers?”

“Negative. Shall I cross-reference text files with those available in SHIELD databases?”

“Ah, hold off on that one, Jocasta,” Tony said, reaching for the display. “I’ll do it myself. No offence, but you’re pretty young yet. Let’s start with hacking Hammer Multinational and work our way up.”

“Understood, sir.”

Pepper and Rhodey looked at each other, then at Tony, who was engrossed with whatever was on the Stark.Pacific_003 server. “I guess that’s an ixnay on the pizza then, Tones?” Rhodey asked with aggravated fondness.

“Mm? Ah, just order in, I wanna…” Tony’s voice trailed off as he started browsing a particularly interesting file.

“Uh, Tony? We can’t exactly order in, no one’s gonna deliver to an old ruin.”

“They will if you pay them enough.”

Rhodey shook his head. _Just like old times._ “Never mind, I’ll go pick it up myself. Pep, make sure our _eccentric genius_ here doesn’t fall face first into that screen, okay?”

“Sir, yes sir!” Pepper snapped off a salute and giggle when Rhodey stuck his tongue out at her. Her smile faded a little when the door slid shut behind him and she was left staring at Tony and the display.

_What’s going on?_ She thought. _And why send this to Tony? Was it a mistake, or was he really the intended recipient?_

Pepper watched as data flew across the display at breakneck speed, spelled out in glowing numbers and incomprehensible graphics, and couldn’t help but wonder which possibility was worse.

 

\- - -

“Greasy foodstuffs, _get!_ ” Rhodey crowed, raising the pizza boxes in triumph.

Pepper hopped up from the chair she’d hauled out of storage. “Oh thank god, I’m _starving!_ ” she groaned, and Rhodey thought she might try to tackle him for the food. He all but threw a box at her before she got the chance. “Tony, fuel!”

“Muh? Oh, right!” Tony visibly shook himself and stepped back from the display. “Jocasta, keep those processes running for me, please?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Any luck?” Rhodey asked once they’d settled down with the pizza (which took a little longer than expected, since they had to pull out another couple of chairs). Tony’s eyes still flickered in a way that said he was still sifting through the data.

“Looks like there’s trouble going down at SHIELD. The data’s point of origin is the probably the Helicarrier itself. No idea exactly _who_ sent it, but I took a look at the blueprints, and I can definitely say that my dad took part in the alterations. Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, unless…”

“Unless whoever sent them didn’t want anyone to know that they existed!” Pepper finished excitedly.

“Exactly. The most interesting changes were made to the helo tunnels. They were designed to only be accessible from below; to get anywhere worth damaging, you’d have to bypass a laser array and several whirling death-blades. In theory, anyway.”

He flipped a small bit of metal onto the table, no larger than a quarter. The moment it settled, a hologram was projected into the air above it, depicting a 3D blueprint of the Helicarrier. A moment later, it zoomed in on what were presumably the helo tunnels, which looked more or less like large, hollow cylinders with propellers inside them.

Tony pointed to an almost-unnoticeable patch in a cylinder wall. “Reality’s a different story. See this hatch? That is _not_ in Dad’s blueprints. In fact, there aren’t any access hatches in the helo tunnels at _all_ in Dad’s version. “

“That’s cool and all,” Rhodey broke in, “but the million dollar question is: where to the hatches lead to?”

Tony grinned. “I’m glad you asked, Rhodey. Because if you watch this, you’ll see something interesting.”

The blueprint zoomed out again. At first nothing happened, but then the hatches lit up in green lines that snaked their way along the path of the supposed access tunnels. As they crawled along blueprints, the rest of the Helicarrier’s outline faded away, until all that was left was-

“Fury’s office,” Tony said as the green lights finished their journey and brought up the room names for their convenience. “The armory, a conference room.”

“The brig?” Pepper added with surprise. “That seems like a bad idea.”

“Aand-“ Tony flicked the hologram, flipping it around so they could see what he’d seen

Rhodey’s eyes widened. “That’s Cap’s room in the medical bay!”

“Got it in one,” Tony confirmed. “So. We have Cap’s medical file, which I’d like to add was updated less than two seconds before the packet was sent, what are almost certainly _not_ the official Helicarrier blueprints, and a bunch of documents with some pretty sensitive information in them. Which brings me back to my first statement.”

“You said that there’s something bad happening at SHIELD,” said Pepper, slowly and with obvious trepidation.

“Does it have something to do with the text files?” Rhodey asked.

Tony frowned. “Yes and no. This is where things get complicated.” He waved a hand through the hologram, and the whole thing collapsed down into nothing. Getting up out of his chair, Tony motioned for his friends to follow him over to the large display. “Each document on its own isn’t much to look at.” He touched the screen and flicked a few files out into the open for viewing. “Together, though, they paint a pretty disturbing picture.”

Pepper dragged a document down to eye-level, speed-reading her way through it. “This is a request to study Cap’s DNA in order to get a better idea of what the Serum really did to him.”

“Same here,” Rhodey said from Tony’s other side, “except that this one specifically states that they want a tissue sample, bone marrow, or at least some blood. Jesus, have these people ever heard of body autonomy?”

“About two thirds of the text files are from military labs that are requesting something or other that’s related to the Serum, whether it’s studying it or trying to synthesis a new version of it, since Extremis was labeled a bust. You think they would’ve learned after Mallen. And me, I guess, but I didn’t go crazy and start breathing fire and shit.” Tony slid a few of the files out of the way and pulled up some visual breakdowns of the document contents. “Another quarter looks like some legalese being thrown around to determine who Cap belongs to, or at least who his body belongs to. There are missives from a few different sources, mostly Army and government officials, including senators and politicians. It all reads like he’s actually dead and not in stasis, even though it’s been clearly proven that he’s alive.”

“And the rest?” Pepper asked, touching the slim wedge of a pie-chart that hadn’t been addressed yet.

Tony shook his head as if to clear out the cobwebs. Or possibly loose data fragments. “That’s the thing; they’re almost all correspondences between Fury and a General Talbot. Taken at face value, it looks like the military version of water-cooler gossip. I’m willing to bet it’s some kind of code, though; the phrasing is kind of weird, like it doesn’t quite fit the conversation at hand. But-”

And here Tony cut himself off, eyes suddenly going distant. “Oh,” he breathed, “oh, that dirty bastard.”

“What?” Pepper and Rhodey demanded in unison.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tapped a document, and it expanded to the full height of the display, pushing the other files aside.

“Check this out. This is the last of the correspondences, and Talbot’s dropped the buddy-buddy act completely. Jocasta, will you read it out for us, please?”

“Certainly, sir,” Jocasta answered, and recited:

“ ‘Fury, I’ve tried reasoning with you, bargaining with you, trading with you, and now I’m down to threatening you. Confirm that you are relinquishing the body to us; refusal to do so will be considered an act of willful non-compliance, and SHIELD in its entirety will be shut down and investigated. You have five hours.’ End of message.”

They stood in silence for a moment. “Well, that was ominous,” Rhodey said finally.

“It gets worse.” Tony brought up another document; this one looked more like a report than an email. “Attached to that message was a copy of Talbot’s orders to storm the Helicarrier if Fury is disobeys, which I’m guessing must have been the case. At this point, I’m willing to bet Fury himself sent this packet, either to preserve evidence or to try and tell us something.”

“Does that mean that SHIELD’s been taken down, then? Is that why Fury or someone else sent this?”

“It has to be.” Pepper pointed at the message header. “Look at the timestamp; Talbot sent that this morning. It’s been over eight hours since then, there’s no _way_ they haven’t stormed the place by now.”

“I can’t get a hold of Black Widow or Hawkeye,” Tony added, “and it’s as if Fury and Hill never existed in the first place. No sign of them anywhere that computers can access.”

“Y’know, it’s really damn creepy when you call people in your head,” Rhodey said pointedly.

“Efficient, though.”

“Still creepy.”

Pepper huffed. “Guys, stay on topic. What does this all _mean?_ ”

“Talbot wants to reverse-engineer the Serum,” Tony said grimly, “and not only will he take out anyone that gets in his way, he’s got someone – or multiple someones – with enough power to make good on his threats.”

Pepper swallowed. “Are you sure, Tony?”

The young inventor blew out a loud breath. “Honestly? I’m guessing here. But all the evidence suggests that Talbot is going to take the Helicarrier, arrest whoever’s still onboard, and have Cap transported to a lab to be dissected. Or possibly vivisected, depending on whether or not they can revive him.”

Pepper and Rhodey both blanched. “But they can’t _do_ that!” Rhodey exclaimed. “He’s Captain America! He’s a national fucking icon, the people will riot!”

“The people don’t even know Captain America’s been found, let alone that he’s even alive,” Tony argued. “Hell, half of them don’t even believe he really exists. Lots of people think he was just invented as a propaganda tool.”

“So what are we gonna do,” Rhodey asked, arms crossed. “Go to the media? Leak the documents online? Call Julian Assange?”

Tony laced his hands together behind his head and grinned at nothing. “I was thinking more along the lines of staging a rescue.”

His friends stared at him. “What,” Rhodey said flatly. It was not a question, more of a statement of incredulity.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out! If Fury _did_ send these documents, then he probably had a plan. If he just wanted us to get someone’s attention, why would he send us the blueprints?”

“He wouldn’t,” Pepper answered, growing more excited. “He would have just sent the emails and pictures of the Cap-cube or something. Instead he sent us his ultra-secret blueprints and Cap’s medical files, as if he wanted us to _break in ourselves!”_

“First of all, that’s a hell of a logical leap. And second, what if he _didn’t_ send the files, guys?” Rhodey broke in, somewhat angrily. “We could be walking right into a trap! After all, the Helicarrier’s gotta be swarming with Talbot’s men by now, if any of this is true.”

“The Helicarrier’s almost definitely been taken at this point,” Tony admitted, “but we don’t have much of a choice here. Can you imagine what the military would do if they _do_ manage to synthesize a new Serum from Cap’s blood?”

The trio grimaced at the thought.

“It’ll take a good twelve hours to secure the Helicarrier,” Tony continued, “and if Talbot is as paranoid as his coded correspondences suggest, he’ll wait until he has total control of the situation before trying to move Cap anywhere. He won’t want to risk his main objective being lost in transit. That basically gives us tonight to get him out.

“Fury – or whoever sent all this – gave us the info we needed to extrapolate Talbot’s intent, the means to get in and out of the Helicarrier undetected, and a baseline for Cap’s life signs – because if he’s here, I’m sure as hell gonna do my best to wake him up. Why _not_ launch a rescue?”

Rhodey swore at them. “Even if we _were_ to make some hare-brained attempt to save him, this is kind of _extremely_ last-minute. How the hell do you plan to get him off the Helicarrier? He’s frozen in a huge chunk of ice! For that matter, do you think people aren’t gonna notice that huge chunk of ice flying through the air?”

“You know I make my best plans up on the fly, Rhodey,” Tony said cheerily, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “And don’t worry about the transportation. I’ve got just the thing.”

 

\- - -

“So run this plan of yours by me again.”

Hidden behind Iron Man’s surly mask, Tony grinned. “It’s pretty simple, Pep. I’ve been snooping around certain lines of communication, as well as checking anything going in and out of the Helicarrier. Talbot’s initial boarding party is being joined by additional convoys every two hours, and the last one’s due in… twenty minutes. Plenty of time for us to get there. We’ll sneak in while they’re docking and I’ll upload my bug to the security system while they’re unloading. Then, when the coast is clear, we’ll head up to Medbay and make our way to Cap’s room. After that, we make some shaved ice, wrap the package in my patented stealth-film, and then exit via the helo shaft.”

“Easy as pie,” Rhodey deadpanned in his ear. He’d been relegated to comms duty, since War Machine didn’t have the stealth capabilities that Rescue and the X-52 Stealth Infiltrator Armor possessed. “You only have to get by, oh, say, _five hundred soldiers._ ”

“Four hundred and sixty-eight,” Tony corrected, because Tony has turned the 'winding Rhodey up' game into an _art_.

“Ah, yes, that makes it so much better.”

“Don’t be such a _downer,_ Rhodey!” Pepper’s grin was almost audible. “I mean come _on_ , we’ve already beaten the Mandarin and giant space lizards and _college_ , we can totally do this.”

“First year is not-“

“Rhodey, do you wanna save Captain America or not?”

Rhodey grumbled a bit, but relented. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep quiet. You’re coming up to the Helicarrier, anyway, we should probably go silent.”

True to Rhodey’s word, the Helicarrier swum into view, standing tall and still amongst the clouds like a ship anchored at sea. A blip on their radar guided them to their position half a kilometer from the docking bay, where they would wait for the transport to arrive.

They didn’t wait long. Eight minutes after taking their positions, a quinjet breached the cloud layer and began its ascent to the opening bay doors. It glided effortlessly into dock with Tony and Pepper flanking it as closely as they dared, unseen by tech or human eye. The suits' HUD pointed them to a likely corner where they could stay out of the way until the soldiers left the bay.

When they were settled, Tony went about hacking the security system to plant his bug and took care of the laser arrays in the helo tunnels while he was at it. Hopefully Talbot would just think it was some type of malfunction. Pepper was humming quietly in his ear, which was surprisingly more comforting than he would have guessed. It was nice to be reminded that you weren't alone, sometimes.

“Alright,” he said, once the coast was clear, “I've introduced my little bug to the security system that _should_ keep it from registering when we open doors and whatnot, so as long as we don't run into anyone, we should be okay. Rhodey, you should be patched into the cameras now, keep an eye out for us.”

“I always do,” came the wry response. “What about when you actually have do shit in Cap's room? Are you gonna loop the tapes or something?”

“Not quite. I-”

“Ooh, ooh, let me guess!” Pepper chirped. “Something that overwrites the security footage with some faked recordings?”

“Close. Part of the bug is that it sort of learns as it goes. It'll essentially be creating new footage out of stuff that's been previously recorded by the system. It'll look more authentic, and has less of a chance of being noticed. Rhodey's got the unaltered feed so that he can tell us where not to be.” The soldiers finished disembarking and marched out of the bay. Pepper and Tony waited until Rhodey gave them an all-clear before exiting themselves.

“This virus isn't gonna try to get up and eat us, right?” Rhodey asked sardonically, “I do _not_ want to try chasing down a living virus with some questionably legal weapons _again_ , Tony.”

“If this one comes to life, something has gone terribly wrong. But something went terribly wrong the last time too, soo...”

“Has it occurred to either of you that our lives are a little weird?” Pepper asked as they drifted down a hallway.

Tony chuckled. “It's crossed my mind once or twice. I mean, we're infiltrating a spy organization in stealth-suits to rescue a frozen super-soldier, what could be more normal than that?”

They lapsed into silence, Rhodey concentrating on keeping them out of sight while Tony and Pepper focused on not hitting anything that would raise an alarm. So everything, really.

“Hey Tony, how's your dad?” Pepper asked as they flew up an elevator shaft.

“My dad?”

“Yeah! I totally forgot to ask earlier and I feel bad about it.”

“... So you're asking me _now?_ In the middle of a _stealth mission?”_

“Yep!”

Tony sighed. “Sometimes I wonder about you, Pep. Dad's in New Mexico right now, helping out at some archeological dig-slash-astrophysics-anomaly thing. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, I just know there's old Norse shit where there shouldn't be old Norse shit and something about an Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

“... Okay, I only understood about half of that, but whatever. So he wasn't there to say hi when you got back from MIT? That's totally not cool, man!”

Smiling, Tony said, “Pepper, Dad visited me in Boston at _least_ twice a month, and trust me, he felt bad about not being there. I told him that it was okay as long as he called me once he got off the plane.”

Which wasn't an unreasonable thing to ask for, considering their track record with planes. Tony knew that he wasn't the only one still harboring a bit of paranoia, either; while his father had ostensibly had some reason or another to be in Boston whenever he visited, those reasons got flimsier as the year went by, and it was obvious that he just wanted to make sure that Tony was alright, that he was safe (or as safe as anyone who flew around in a flying metal suit could be). Tony didn't mind, because a father who was visiting him was a father who wasn’t dead or being held captive by a megalomanic classmate.

“I guess that's alright,” Pepper agreed a little grudgingly. Her own father was away on work business, so she might have been projecting a bit. Before Tony could ask about it, however, Pepper was talking again. “Wait, what did you say about the Einstein-Rosen bridge?”

Tony shrugged before he realized that she couldn't really see him do it. “Beats me. I don't know if there's the remnants of one or the possibility of establishing one or what, just that he was hooking up with a Dr. Foster and a Dr. Selvig, who I only know from science journals. They're pretty smart; with Dad there, who knows what could happen?”

“Tony,” Rhodey sounded somewhat pained, “you say that like it's a _good_ thing.”

Tony grinned and would have responded, except that Rhodey's voice suddenly went serious. “Medbay's they next floor up. I'd suggest you move it, it looks like some guards are doing rounds on that level.”

The two pilots didn't need to be told twice; they picked up the pace, forgoing a little stealth now that there target was almost in their sights.

A quick jaunt up a stairwell and they were in Medbay. They reached the door and Tony punched in the entry sequence. “Shit!” he hissed when the lock flashed an unhappy red at him, “Fury must have changed the code before he got out.”

“Can you open it?” Pepper asked urgently.

Tony took a deep breath, let it out again. On the next breath in, he closed his eyes, and

_the lock broke down beneath his fingers, plastic and wires and circuit boards peeling away to code that swept across the back of his retinas and he was reaching and_

“Tony, the guards are getting ready to move in,” Rhodey said, surprisingly calm. “Hurry up or get out of there.”

_I know_ , Tony wanted to say, but he was still submersed in code, all he needed was to _push-_

And the door slid open.

“ _Go!”_ Tony cried, and heard the _whoosh_ of displaced air as Rescue whipped into the room ahead of him. He went in after her, and just in time: not a moment after the door had closed behind him, the guards entered at the other end of the medical bay. Completely oblivious to what they'd nearly stumbled on, the three men did a cursory check of the bay, not even _trying_ to get into most of the locked doors. Another few minutes and they were gone, much to Team Iron Man's relief.

Very little had changed since Tony and Pepper had last been the strangely lit room. Captain Rogers was still just a silhouette in a giant block of ice suspended in mid-air. The only light was from the computer screens and the eerie green glow of the anti-grav units.

“Okay, Pep, got the film?” Tony asked as he touched down and walked over to a display.

“Right here.” She popped a compartment, withdrawing a tightly wadded bundle of what looked like aluminum foil, or possibly one of those space blankets.

It was neither, of course. The stealth-film had been a late night, frenzied invention of Tony's when he realized that stealth armor, be it his or Pepper's, could only hide so much. So he created a kind of cling wrap that had the light-bending properties of the stealth suits, and as an added bonus would maintain the temperature of whatever it was that was being wrapped. So hot things stayed hot, or – as was the case – blocks of ice stayed nice and cold.

“Awesome,” Tony breathed. He'd opened a compartment in his own suit, withdrawing four little spidery robots, each no bigger than a hedgehog. He threw them at the ice, where they sunk in their claws and began chewing their way through the ice. “Let's let the diggers do their work, then.”

The diggers had been hastily reprogrammed from drilling out ice samples to carving the ice around Captain Rogers into a smaller, oblong shape. As they went, pieces of ice sloughed right off, bobbing in the anti-grav field and throwing weird reflections onto the walls. Tony could _hear_ Pepper shivering in sympathy.

Finally, when the diggers were finished, they hunkered down onto one side of the remaining ice and used the last of their energy reserves to propel the block away from the center of the anti-grav field.

“That's it,” Tony murmured. He grabbed the ice and maneuvered it into a horizontal position so that Pepper could catch the other end. Together they heaved the ice out of the anti-grav field and down onto the film that Pepper had spread out on the floor, shiny side down.

With the bulk of the ice gone, Tony could see Cap's face. His eyes were closed behind the blue cowl, mouth open slightly, chin angled up and away from his body as if to try capture one last breath.

Tony wondered if he'd felt the sensation of being drowned. He hoped not.

“Does it feel like we're wrapping him in a body bag to you? Because that's totally what this feels like to me and it's not nice,” Pepper murmured as they wrapped the film over the ice.

“I kind of feel more like I'm wrapping a really big present, honestly, which feels totally bizarre,” Tony admitted, “but I see where you're coming from.”

They finished tucking all the edges in and secured the handles. A quick flick with Extremis and the film flickered and disappeared.

_Now for the hard part,_ Tony thought.

Rhodey talked them over to the panel that hid the access tunnel. Tony _reached_ and _pushed_ the panel open, going in first and _pulling_ the panel closed behind Rescue.

“I am _soo_ glad for night-vision,” Pepper said into the gloom. “This would be creepy and dark and claustrophobic if I couldn't see anything. I mean, even the Makluan temples weren't this bad.”

She was right. Once the panel was shut, the whole tunnel was pitch-black with no light at all. Luckily, the 'night-vision' aspect of their HUDs wasn't really night-vision, but a kind of silent sonar that Tony had created for just this kind of purpose.

The tunnel was just high and wide enough for the suits to stand, although the film-wrapped ice brushed the walls every so often. Tony winced every time, afraid that it might short the film.

Luckily, it held. They walked on, footing sure even when the tunnel floor slanted until it was almost vertical. Maybe it was a trick of the darkness, but the tunnel seemed to stretch on, and Pepper kept chattering in his ear, belying her nervousness. He never said anything himself, but Tony was _very_ glad when Rhodey finally mentioned that they were a few paces away from the access hatch.

A gust of wind whipped past as the hatch opened, accompanied by the roar of the propellers. Even with their external audio lines turned off, they could feel the _whump whump_ of each rotation vibrate in their suits and bones.

“Okay,” Tony said, leaning out the hatch a bit and trying _not_ to go weak in the knees when he saw how fast the blades were spinning, “here's where it gets tricky. Pepper, don't take this personally, but I'm going to take control of Rescue for a bit. This is gonna take a _hell_ of a lot of co-ordination, and we're not gonna get any second chances.”

He heard Pepper swallow anxiously. “I trust you, Tony,” she said, and he felt an absurd kind of warmth bubbling in his stomach.

“Don't let go of the handle,” he advised, “even after I take control, alright?” When she confirmed, he continued. “I'm taking over now, in three, two-”

_and his mind skittered over the armor, strangefamiliar **home**_ _and sank in as if he belonged there_

“-and mark.”

Tony heard Pepper's little puff of breath, but didn't stop to figure out if it was from relief or fear. He pushed off the floor, feeling Rescue mimic his actions. He willed the two suits out into the chute, recalculating their combined thrust as the propellers whirled below them.

“Pepper, I'm going to get us as close to the propellers as I can, and then we're going to drop between the blades,” Tony explained as he flew them into position. “We only have to do this twice, and then we're home free. You ready?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rhodey asked nervously. “You can still go back, I can guide you back to the docking bay.”

“The two of us flying around the Helicarrier is one thing, but dragging this lump of ice between us is another thing entirely. We're _way_ more likely to be caught,” Pepper said, and Tony was so _ridiculously_ proud of her as he heard her voice waver before firming up. She took another breath and added, “I'm ready whenever you are, Tony. I trust you.”

Tony couldn't help but wonder who she was trying to reassure: him, Rhodey, or herself.

_Alright,_ he thought, feeling something in his chest go deadly calm, _Here we go._

When the nearest blade made its pass, he _cut_ the thrusters and they dropped through the gap. To her credit, Pepper only shrieked a little bit as the air current caught them and rocketed them down towards the second set of propellers. Tony was prepared for that, however, and he engaged as many thrusters as possible to gain control of their descent. They jerked stop just a few feet away from the second set of blades.

Pepper sighed tremulously. “Well, that's one down. One to go?”

Tony wanted to smile encouragingly at her. “Don't worry, we're almost through.”

“Worrying? Who's worrying? I'm not worried I'm just sayii _ii_ - _AAAIIIIIIII_!”

Tony dropped them again, this time relying on the quasi-wind tunnel to force them down and out of the helo shaft. The moment they were clear of the Helicarrier's underbelly, he engaged the boot thrusters on Iron Man and Rescue, slowing their plummet until they were hovering gently over the ocean.

“Are you guys dead?” Rhodey asked uncertainly, and Tony felt like laughing, because _holy shit it worked_. Pepper _did_ laugh, a little hysterically, but overall she'd held together better than he could have hoped for. They'd _rescued Captain America_ , she was entitled to a little near-death hysterical laughter.

“We're fine, Rhodey,” Tony soothed. “As soon as Pepper can breathe again, I'm passing control over to her and we'll be heading home.”

“Glad to hear it,” Rhodey sighed with obvious belief. “Anything you want me to do?”

“Plot us a course? I don't think I can concentrate well enough to hack into the FAA's databanks with my brain.”

“You shouldn't be doing that anyway, you're gonna get caught one of these days.”

“Hasn't happened yet.”

Pepper finally managed to calm herself down enough to say, “Okay boys, quit your flirting. Tony, gimme my suit back, and how weird is it that I have to ask for it back _when I am actively wearing it, thank you_ , I wanna take a bath and forget that this ever happened.”

“Can do,” Tony grinned, “just remember to hold onto the handle.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know- _whoops!”_

“ _Pepper!!”_

“I'm _sorry_ , it just _slipped_ and-”

Yeah, they were going to be just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the hero of old has been rescued. Now what?

It was dark by the time Iron Man and Rescue were over New York again. They’d had some terse discussions en route to the Helicarrier on exactly _what_ they planned to do after liberating the Captain. Tony had been torn between trying to whip something together in the Armory (thus ensuring the maximum amount of secrecy they could afford) or going to Stark Tower’s sub-levels and utilize machines that had already been fabricated and tested (easier and safer, but carried a higher risk of discovery). Pepper and Rhodey had hashed it out, and ultimately the three decided that the added safety measures outweighed the possible security risk.

Once they were in the clear, Rhodey booked it over to the Tower, just in time to meet Tony and Pepper (who were still stealth’d). The late-night security guards waved him through, unwittingly allowing the suits access as well. Three stairwells and five doors later, they were in Sub-Basement E (Discontinued Prototypes). Captain Rogers and his chunk of iceberg were then placed in a prototype multi-function cryostasis pod.

“Dad designed it after Mom died, with the idea that it would preserve a critically ill or injured person short-term until the necessary operations could take place,” Tony explained as they hefted their Capsicle into the pod. “Unfortunately, there’s just no way to manufacture it that doesn’t cost over two million dollars for one unit, even with all of the advances we’ve got today. Also, all of the test subjects died during the freezing process. Perfectly preserved, but very dead.”

“Oh good, so we’ve just rescued Cap in order to kill him ourselves,” Rhodey groused, at the same time Pepper squeaked, “Test subjects?!”

“It works,” Tony said stubbornly, “but we were never able to create an agent that would allow the human body to be frozen _and_ thawed without causing irreversible damage. Since Cap’s already frozen, we don’t have to worry about the initial freeze, and I’m assuming the thawing issue is what was stumping the SHIELD scientists, so that’s something I’ll have to figure out. And don’t worry, Pep, none of them were humans; there weren’t even that many animal test subjects. Mostly they used LMDs.”

The computer displays flickered from screen to screen, too fast for the human eye to follow. They settled on some kind of incomprehensible coding, which made sense when Tony bent over and started scrolling through it.

“If your dad built this after your mum died, then this tech is almost twenty years old.” Rhodey’s eyes roamed over the pod, watching as a clear half-cylinder sealed over the ice and its occupant. “Are you sure this even works anymore?”

“Dad and I have been tinkering with it off and on for almost as long as I can remember. I think it was mostly a distraction during their anniversary, Mom’s birthday and the day she died.” Tony poked a screen before standing up straight again and cracking his neck. “It is a little out of date, since the last time we worked on it was before the plane crash, but it should be good enough for what we need. Vitals are steady, by the way; the good Captain doesn’t seem to have been adversely affected by our little jaunt. Uh oh.”

“Uh oh? What uh oh?” Pepper asked as both she and Rhodey whipped around to stare at their friend, “What’s wrong?”

“Dad,” Tony grimaced. “I guess he must have changed up the security protocols down here, apparently now he gets pinged whenever any of the levels below the basement labs are accessed. He’s calling me now. Hang on.”

Using whatever wizardry Extremis gave him over technology, Tony transferred the video call over to the lab’s video-com. “Hey Dad. I promise, this isn’t what you think it is, no matter what you think it is.”

Howard Stark looked unimpressed. “So you’re telling me this isn’t related to anything Iron Man? Or Team Iron Man, either?”

“Nope!” Pepper chirped for them, “I mean, other than the fact that we _used_ the suits to get-”

“Is this a secure channel?” Tony demanded, cutting her off.

Howard gave him an odd look, but fiddled with something just outside the camera’s view. “It is now. What’s going on?”

Tony grinned. “We _may_ or _may not_ have liberated a national icon from the Helicarrier. Which has totally had a hostile takeover by some random Army general who is definitely _not_ Fury.”

“Well that’s not good. The random Army general taking over the Helicarrier, that is.” Howard blinked. “Wait, national icon?”

Rhodey obligingly zoomed in on the pod. Howard’s eyes widened. “Is that-?”

“Captain America? Eyup,” Pepper confirmed, sharing a wild grin with their genius friend. “Isn’t it so cool?!”

The elder Stark looked like he didn’t know _what_ he was supposed to be feeling at the moment. “... I take it the unexpected take-over of the Helicarrier and your _liberation_ are related?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, “but it’s a little much to explain right now. When are you coming home?”

“I’m organizing a flight back as we speak. Is he alive?”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem,” Rhodey groaned. “He’s alive in there, but SHIELD hasn’t been able to figure out a way to thaw him out without killing him in the process!”

Howard hummed and asked, “How secret is this?”

The trio exchanged a look. “Right now, the four of us are the only ones who know where Cap really is right now,” Tony answered, “why?”

“I might be in contact with someone who can help. Do you trust me?”

“... Really, Dad? Is this a thing that actually needs to be said? Of course we trust you!”

“Alright, alright,” Howard chuckled. “Aaand that’s the pilot, telling me they’ll be here by morning. If I can convince my friend to help, we should be there by tomorrow afternoon some time. I’ll let Security know you’re working on a top-secret project and are not to be disturbed.”

Tony felt something inside him relaxed with relief. “Thanks Dad. Love you _so_ much.”

“Only because I enable your insane schemes and let you run around like a hooligan. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

\- - -

The next day found Team Iron Man staring intently at various computer screens and tablets, trying to give themselves a base on which to start researching how to revive Captain Rogers.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Rhodey murmured, closing yet another SHIELD medical file. “As far as I can tell, SHIELD _wasn’t_ trying to wake Cap up from hibernation. Unless there’s more that wasn’t in the packet, the proposals were ever only that: proposed. Nothing was ever approved.”

Pepper frowned at her tablet. “Have you seen any of the rejection letters? Some of these sound to me like they didn’t _want_ to wake him up. Or that someone calling the shots didn’t, at least. That’d have to be someone in Congress, though, maybe even the President.”

“Wonderful. Treason on top of treason, that’s _just_ what we need. Hey Tony,” Rhodey called, “how’re you doing?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Tony shook his head clear. “I’m okay. Trying to make sense of Cap’s vitals. I don’t think _he’s_ actually frozen, just... very, _very_ cold. His skin _should_ be completely frost-bitten, but there’s no sign of any frostbite at all. I wonder if the Serum is acting as a natural anti-freeze.”

“Like wood frogs?” Rhodey asked curiously.

“It’s my best guess right now. Biology is neat, but not really my thing”

“It is _my_ thing, however.” Three incredulous pair of eyes snapped up to where an unexpected voice was coming from. They hadn’t even heard the door open! “So here’s hoping I can give you a hand.”

Tony’s grin threatened to split open his face. “Doctor Banner! You’re okay!”

Bruce Banner waved shyly at the gathered friends. His shorts and polo shirt had seen better days, and his messenger bag looked like it was on its last legs, but all in all, the man looked well. Behind him, Howard Stark leaned back with a grin, thumbs hooked in his belt loops.

“I am indeed. Sorry I haven’t really been in contact, before or after the invasion,” Bruce said apologetically. “I needed some time to get used to my... newest developments, I guess is a diplomatic way of saying it. I only called your dad last week when I heard he was in the area.”

“You were in New Mexico?” Pepper asked, “Why?”

Bruce waved her off. “Nothing important, personal reasons. This is far more interesting.”

The two newest arrivals approached the pod with obvious interest. “Hard to believe he was born in the Roaring Twenties,” Howard said with breathless awe. “I wonder if it’s ice or the Serum that’s preserved him so well.”

Bruce was studying the readouts with what was quite frankly a _terrifying_ intensity. “Probably the Serum, he’s... wow. This is weird.”

“That’s what Tony said.” Rhodey crossed his arms. “Can you help?”

Bruce grinned. “Young man, I would be delighted.”

\- - -

It took another three days to come to a conclusion, mostly because Tony had forgotten to sleep again and everyone ganged up on him in order to force him into a cot for a few hours. Pepper and Rhodey had both begged off some time during day two. Roberta was beginning to wonder if her son was coming home at all, apparently, and Pepper wanted to check something on her father’s computer. She was getting scary-good at hacking.

“Let us know if anything comes up,” Rhodey had demanded. Tony agreed, with Howard as his witness because Tony couldn’t be expected to remember _anything_ when he was in work mode. Howard was only a little better. Still, it worked, because sixty-four hours later, the two suit pilots were walking back into Sub-Basement E, with take-out to fuel their hard-working scientists.

“Sitrep?” Pepper asked as she unloaded several cartons of Vietnamese food. Rhodey had already dropped his on a bench and wandered over to where Howard was bent over a display.

“Remember when Fury said that they couldn't figure out how to revive him?” Tony pushed a few stray hairs out of his tired eyes. “Yeah, bullshit.”

“His body temp's a mostly uniform six degrees,” Howard explained, “with his core being slightly higher. It _looks_ like everything's completely shut down, but there's brain activity, and we think there might even be a heartbeat, albeit an almost undetectable one. He's more or less in an extreme state of torpor, and as far as any of us can determine, all it'll take to revive him is to get his body temperature back up to norm.”

Rhodey blinked. “So you're gonna, what, stick him in an industrial microwave?"

Bruce chuckled from where he was playing with a tablet by Cap’s head. "Not quite. The warming has to be gradual, in order to give his body time to adapt. A slow rise in temperature, coupled with some intravenous fluids and maybe a quick shock to get his heart going full-time again. All in all, waking him up is going to be the easy part."

"Why's that?"

"How do you explain to a guy that he's been frozen for seventy years, and everyone he's ever known and loved is probably dead and gone?"

Tony shrugged. “Say it outright and hope for the best, I suppose. Make sure he knows we’re _not_ Nazi spies?”

“I’ve got something to help with that.” Bruce set aside his tablet and dug into his bag. He pulled out a large brown bottle that looked like something out of a period medical documentary.

“This is a sedative I created some time ago,” the doctor said, holding the bottle aloft. “I had Ricky keep it on him for when the Hulk got too out of control; it’s derived from what zookeepers use to keep elephants down.”

Rhodey whistled. “That’s gotta be some powerful stuff.”

“It is indeed. We’ll start with a diluted solution, administered intravenously. As he wakes up, we’ll ease off. The idea isn’t to keep him unconscious or inhibited, just... quiet, I suppose, so that he doesn’t try to take our heads off.”

“Is that really the ethical thing to do?” the War Machine pilot asked with some consternation.

Tony shook his head. “Honestly? Probably not. It’s not fair to mess with someone’s agency just because we’re afraid of how he’ll react. However, you’ve gotta admit, we’re the best bet he’s got. If something happens - if he breaks out and escapes - the Army will be on his ass faster than hungry wolves on a slab of meat. And we all know - or can guess - exactly what those crazy bastards have planned for him.”

Tony had brought Bruce and Howard up to speed on the data packet Team Iron Man had received. Bruce had elected to remain ignorant on most of the details not directly related to Cap’s medical history, in the interests of keeping his blood pressure down. It was agreed that his decision was for the best.

“The plan is to keep people talking - to him or by him, as long as he can hear - before and during his waking. If he can hear our voices and our lack of aggression, keep it warm and comforting, he’s less likely to react violently, I hope.” Bruce cleaned his glasses with a soft cloth, a nervous gesture if there ever was one.

Howard joined in, “Remember, the last thing _he_ remembers is being in a war. Actively in combat, even. We have to convince him to trust us, that he’s safe. We’ll be truthful about his situation from the start, including the sedative and that it’s being administered. The Serum will likely flush it out of his system soon enough, and when he’s awake, we can explain further.”

“We’re really better off asking for forgiveness than permission, in this case,” Tony concluded. “It’s a shitty thing to do, but this is a shitty set of circumstances; hopefully, he understands, even if he doesn’t forgive it.”

Pepper shrugged. “Gotta admit, this is better than waking up with your chest cavity carved open.”

“I still don’t think it’s the right thing to do,” Rhodey sighed, “but you do have a point. So, when are we gonna break the ice?”

“Rhodey that was _terrible_ ,” Tony groaned as everyone else snorted.

“We’ve actually already started,” Howard said, ignoring his son’s words, “We’ve brought the sealed compartment of the pod up to room temperature, and we’re going to be slowly raising it over the next few hours. The melted water is being drained and used as a coolant as the unit heats up. Once the ice is melted and his body temp’s closer to normal, we’ll unseal the pod and let nature do the rest.”

“By this time tomorrow, we’ll be able to insert the IVs. It likely won’t be long after that when he starts waking up.” Bruce looked surprisingly excited. It was easy to forget that he had been a biomedical doctor and researcher before going into physics to specialize in gamma radiation.

“We’ll have to cut off his uniform, assuming that it doesn’t just fall apart.” Bruce continued. “While the Captain might be protected by the Serum, his leathers aren’t.”

“A hot, naked man in a tube,” Rhodey grinned at Tony and Pepper, “you two must be so disappointed.”

“Rhodey!” Tony and Pepper flushed while Rhodey cackled.

Howard coughed discreetly. “Thank you for the visual, James, I didn’t really need to be thinking about my son or his friend’s sexual proclivities. Moving on, we should probably start organizing a rotation.”

“Alright!” Pepper clapped her hands, “I can start now, should I start talking now? Because I can do that. Talk, that is, I’m good at talking to people who aren’t answering me, ooh I can tell the story about Tony and Rhodey-”

“ _PEPPER!_ ” The boys in question yelled in unison. Bruce tried to hide his laughter; Howard didn’t bother.

“How ‘bout we eat first? Food’s getting cold,” Bruce suggested.

“All in favour?” Howard grinned as everyone’s hands shot up. “Excellent. Let’s eat, we’ve got a long wait ahead of us.”

\- - -

_darkness_

\---

“... your time. You’re alright... ‘re safe. We won’t...”

\---

“... difference... show you around...”

“Pep...to sleep. Isn’t your... ‘re?”

“Nah... ee you tom...row, then.”

\---

_where did the silence go?_

\---

“...ature’s rising, brainwaves ...sing, but he’s still got a ways to go...”

\---

“...music, and we’ll have to do a movie marathon, get you caught up...”

\---

_was this a dream?_

\---

_“...been twelve hours, I’m going to start easing off the drugs, see if he...”_

\---

_or was the silence a nightmare?_

\---

“Hey! Is he...”

\---

_one way to find out._

\---

“I think he’s coming around...”

\---

Waking up was an arduous task. His mouth was dry and tasted like dregs of an old bottle of vodka; his limbs were heavy and unresponsive. Besides that, though, he felt... relaxed. Kind of floaty.

He knew almost immediately that he wasn’t in the field, because he couldn’t hear the sounds of his men breathing or gunfire in the distance. It didn’t _smell_ like a hospital (or a laboratory), but he could hear strange machines working in the background. He wasn’t lying on a bed, as it was much too solid. Not a steel gurney, thank god. Not a stretcher, either, as it lacked the bounce and give of fabric pulled tight over steel poles.

_I am waxing poetic about stretchers_ , Steve thought muzzily. _I must have taken a head injury._

The thing beneath him was hard, but giving, contoured to the planes and hollows of his back. Not comfortable, but not _un_ comfortable, either. Accommodating, he supposed.

“Hey, are you awake? Captain Rogers?”

A hand touched his wrist, as gentle as the voice had been. Steve peeled open his eyes and watched as blobs of colour focused onto a pair of brilliant blue eye under a shock of black hair.

“Hey.” The man smiled at him, voice still soft and quiet. Steve appreciated that. “Welcome back, Captain. How was the nap?”

Nap? It sure as hell didn’t _feel_ like he’d only taken a nap. He felt like he’d been asleep for days.

“Where...” he croaked blearily, unable to force out more than that one word.

“You’re home, Captain. Back in the US. You did good, Cap, everything’s alright. You can relax.”

He could see the man’s face more clearly now, and... _god_ he looked young. Wide-eyed and fresh-faced, he was probably still wet behind the ears. Couldn’t be more than a few years younger than Steve himself, but still.

Wait. Home?

“How,” Steve ground out and sighed gratefully when his apparent caretaker lifted a cup to his mouth. He eagerly sucked in water through the straw before trying again. “What... happened?”

The man’s smile dropped away, those blue eyes focusing on the cup. “What... it’s a little hard to explain, and you’re still kind of high... er, a little hopped up, that is. You’re under sedation, but we’ve eased off. The Serum will take care of it soon enough.”

His eyelids were still unbelievably heavy, and he had to work to get them open again (when did he close them?) “Drugged?”

“Yeah,” the man sighed, “it’s... a little complicated. Why don’t you try to sleep off the rest? You’ll likely only be out for a few minutes, and when you wake up again, your head should be clearer and we can talk a little more.”

Steve shook his head. It felt like he was moving underwater. “Don’t... want to sleep again.”

The man’s eyes softened. “I get that. But Cap- _Steve_. You’re alright here. You’re safe. I promise, as long as I’m standing, no one will touch you.”

He was _so_ tired...

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, and then I’ll explain everything.”

“Holding you to that,” Steve muttered as the darkness swept over him again in a gentle curl. Had he been awake a moment longer, he would have felt a hand take his, holding tight.

\- - -

He drifted in and out of sleep, never waking for more than a few moments at a time. On what would be the last time, he had the strangest sense of nostalgia, like he was back in the orphanage and had finally gotten over his latest bout of fever. He was covered in something soft and warm, and while the floaty feeling had faded, he still felt loose and relaxed.

He opened his eyes, reveling in the feeling of being _awake._ People were going to start calling him Rip Van Winkle.

_What’s tapping?_

Steve rolled his head to the side, trying to pinpoint the sound. The man from before was sitting next to his bed(?), dark head bent over... was that a writing slate? A clipboard? It didn’t really look like either; encased in a metal sheath, there was no paper that he could see, but it looked like he was using a pen to write on it, not chalk.

How strange.

He must have made a noise of confusion, because the man looked up from his not-clipboard-not-slate (was it glass? Were those _pictures_ moving across it?) and smiled. “Captain! Think you can stay awake this time? Before you ask, it’s only been about twenty minutes since we last talked.”

Steve rolled his neck and made to sit up. “That’s good. And I hope so. I’d like to hear what you have to tell me, sir.”

The man snorted. “‘Sir?’ Pretty sure I should be calling _you_ that. And careful,” he placed a hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from moving too much, “don’t want to accidentally pull out your IVs out.”

Sure enough, multiple tubes sprouted from the crooks of his elbows, expertly inserted into the big veins there. Steve looked back up at the man, unease churning slowly in his gut.

“They’re mostly nutrients and saline,” the man said quickly, obviously seeing something in Steve’s expression. “I swear we are doing nothing untoward to you. Uh, except the sedation, that could be considered untoward, but that was for everyone’s safety, including yours.”

Steve frowned. “Has anyone ever told you that you are not very good at reassuring people?”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice.” The man smiled again. “In any case, I should introduce myself. Name’s Tony Stark, nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but...” he motioned towards the IVs.

Steve nodded. “Steve Rogers, but I think you already knew that.”

The man’s - Tony’s - smile turned strained. “It’s hard not to,” he said, then sighed. “Here, let me get this down and we’ll get you sitting up.”

There must have been a control panel or something by Tony’s hand that Steve had missed, because as soon as he finish, Steve felt the contoured parts of the not-bed (was it a gurney after all?) shift beneath him. Tony helped wrestle him upright, trying not to jostle too much. Steve was upright just in time to see what looked like white, rubbery panels slide flat.

Once they were both certain Steve wouldn’t pull out any of the tubes (and he could see now that they disappeared into the base of the ‘bed,’ what _was_ this thing?), Tony fell back into the chair and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Hoo boy,” he said after a few moments, “Where to start. Um, what’s the last thing you remember? Start with Project Rebirth and work forward.”

Still a little uncertain, Steve closed his eyes and concentrated. Project Rebirth. Coming out of that great machine, bigger and stronger and _more_ than he’d ever been his whole life. Erskine’s death, Phillips being impressed with how he managed to catch the assassin on foot. Being assigned to liberate soldiers from various HYDRA bases in Europe, including-

“Bucky,” Steve breathed, “Bucky’s-”

“I know. It gets-” Tony swallowed. “Keep going.”

Steve took a deep breath, gathering his composure. Answers now, mourning later.

Meeting the Red Skull for the first time. Spending nearly two years travelling across the European Theatre, leap-frogging from HYDRA bases to weapons caches to POW camps.

Zola. The train. Meeting Red Skull for the last time.

The plane.

Steve opened his eyes and stared at Tony, that feeling of unease giving way to some kind of horror.

“I died,” he said finally. “I flew a plane into the Arctic Ocean. I _died_.”

Tony shifted in his seat. “Actually, you didn’t. Mostly frozen, yes. Dead? Not quite.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Serum kept you from... okay. You know how some animals hibernate during the winter? Basically, you were in an _extreme_ form of hibernation.”

That... didn’t really make any sense, but what the hell. The Serum _did_ do a whole lot of strange things to him.

He took a deep breath, let it out. Asked the question he wasn’t sure he wanted answered. “How long was I... sleeping for?”

Tony grimaced. “Seventy years.”

“Seventy years.” Steve’s eyes were getting dry from all the staring he was doing, but he just could. Not. Comprehend.

“Give or take a few months.”

“Seventy. Seven zero.”

“I’m afraid so.”

_Seventy years._

Steve’s mouth twisted, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “I had a date.”

\- - -

When he realized that Captain Rogers was _actually waking up_ , Tony had panicked a bit. They’d discussed what should and _shouldn’t_ be said, in the hopes of walking the line between “enough info to be satisfying” and “complete data overload.”

In all honesty, Tony hadn’t expected for Cap to wake up on his shift. He’d done the calculations; by his and Bruce’s best guess, the man shouldn’t have woken up until after sunrise, which (by no coincidence) was during Howard’s watch. In any case, Tony had been forced to make up his speech on the fly, and he wasn’t sure how well it had been delivered, but he managed to get the main points across.

Cap took the news fairly well. At least, Tony thought he did, anyway.

Unsurprisingly, the freshly-thawed World War II hero curled in on himself, breath coming in sharp pants. What _was_ surprising was that within seconds, he sat up again, ramrod straight.

“Show me,” he said, too shaky to be a real order and not quite hard enough to be a demand. “Prove to me that this is the future and not just some Nazi plot to make me think I’ve gone insane.”

Tony nodded. “Sure, no problem. We gotta get these IVs out of you first, though.”

Bruce had said not to remove them until he could get a better idea of how the good captain was doing in a general health sort of way. However, Cap looked like he was one wrong word away from finding a round-ish piece of metal and flinging it at some unsuspecting heads, so Tony figured they could do the whole check-up thing later.

Then he realized the other problem with taking Cap upstairs.

“Um, once we’re done with these,” Tony said as he carefully pulled the tubes out of Cap’s elbows, “do you want maybe get dressed? Unless you’re good with the blanket.”

The blond looked down at the thin, soft blanket they’d spread over him to protect his modesty and flushed a brilliant red. “Uh, yeah, that’d be nice,” he replied, sheepishness dimming his hard expression.

Tony grinned at him, wiping at the man’s elbows with an alcohol swab the pod had so thoughtfully dispensed. “My friend Pepper - she’s one of the one’s who’s been sitting with you, she’s nice, you’ll like her I hope - she took it upon herself to grab you some stuff. Nothing fancy, just some sweats and a pack of underwear, but it’s better than nothing. She’s pretty good at guesstimating sizes, but let me know if it’s uncomfortable and I’ll send for something else.”

He popped open a drawer further down on the pod, revealing the navy-coloured clothes Pepper had picked.

“You’ll have to wear this, though,” Tony handed him a hoodie, “and keep the hood up. I’ll explain why when you have a better reason to believe me.”

Cap nodded and accepted the clothes with only a little hesitance. He made to stand up, and that was when Tony realized that the man was going to get dressed _right in front of him_.

It was Tony’s turn to blush furiously as he whirled around, trying not to get an eyeful.

“I take it you aren’t military,” Cap said, sounding amused.

“Nope,” Tony responded, popping the _p_ at the end. “What makes you say that?”

Cap smirked. “I have yet to meet a military man or woman who hasn’t had the body modesty trained out of them. Midnight drills and communal showers will do that to you.”

“Fair enough.” Tony rocked back and forth on his heels as he heard feet shuffle and the rasp of cloth sliding on skin. “Can I look yet?”

“Sure, I’m dressed now. D’you have any shoes I can borrow?”

“Slipper-things work alright for you?”

“ _‘Slipper-things?’_ ”

Tony grinned. He could actually _hear_ the air-quotes on that, and Cap probably didn’t even know what air-quotes were yet. “I honestly don’t know, they’re kind of rubbery and weird and they’re called Alligators or Turtles or something, _I don’t know,_ Roberta just wears them in the garden and stuff, don’t ask me.”

Rogers cocked an eyebrow. “Well, if this is how knowledgeable you are about the rest of the future, I think I want another tour guide.”

“Look, do you want the slipper-things or not?”

“I suppose _slipper-things_ are better than running around in my bare feet.”

Cap’s voice was jovial enough, even if it still held an air of warning. Apparently he’d decided to trust Tony on his word for now. Score.

It took a little longer than expected to get to the lab door because, surprise surprise, staying in the same position for seventy-some-odd years led to a mild case of weak legs. Rogers had steadied himself on a stray bit of machinery after the first few steps, and by the time they reached the private elevator, he seemed to have completely recovered. Still, Tony stayed within reach as they rocketed towards the penthouse office.

“You said I was frozen.”

Tony jumped a little. For some reason, he hadn’t been expecting Captain Rogers to speak on the way up. “Um, yeah. Not much else you can call being stuck in a block of ice.”

Cap kept his eyes firmly on the elevator doors. “What happened to the plane? Were the weapons destroyed?”

“Um,” Tony desperately cast a line out to Jocasta, hoping that she could find the relevant files amongst the data packet. He wasn’t disappointed. “Yes, technically. The plane’s contents were too unstable to move, so once you were evacuated SHIELD detonated the whole thing in a containment field. Did you try to eject from the plane, by the way? From what I can tell, you were found about twenty feet below the wreck.”

“No. I don’t know how I ended up that far away. I was strapped in, from what I can remember.”

Tony’s mind started whirling, considering the possible scenarios. Before he could say any of them out loud (which in retrospect was probably a good thing), the elevator came to a gentle stop.

“Here, let’s go,” he said over the soft _ding_ instead. “This is my dad’s office - or it was, at least. Now it’s more of a conference room for when he and I are talking business.”

The room itself hadn’t changed much, despite Hammer and his machinations. The last dregs of moonlight seeped through the wall of windows, painting the room in an eerie glow. Tony beckoned the soldier over to the window. Steve followed, still a little hesitant but apparently game for the time being.

The results... weren’t quite what Tony had hoped for. Cap stared out the window, brow furrowed and obviously confused. His eyes fluttered over the light-pocked cityscape, seeing but not comprehending, and the brunet suddenly realized that Cap _didn’t recognize it._ He had no idea that this was New York City, the place he was born and raised.

Something twisted unpleasantly in Tony’s stomach at the thought. _There’s not much left of the world you knew, is there?_

“Wait,” Rogers murmured just as Tony was getting ready to point out some landmarks, “Is that the Empire State Building?! And there, behind it, that’s the Chrysler building! My god, this is New York!”

Tony nodded. “Afraid so, Cap. So, uh, the good news is that we won the war?”

Cap stared at him for a moment, eyes wide in his pale face.

Then he started to laugh; great, heaving guffaws that were more than a little bit tinged with hysteria. He laughed and laughed and sucked in huge breaths. He staggered back from the windows and braced his hands on his knees and just kept _laughing,_ except when it sounded like sobbing. At that point Tony was very much afraid that the man might collapse at any moment, so he ushered him over to one of his father’s particularly plush office chairs.

“I just,” Cap managed once he got his breathing back under control, “this is not how I imagined coming home. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it’s like something out of a science fiction novel.”

Tony swallowed. “I’m, um, I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

“No, no, it’s... well, it’s not _fine,_ but. I’m alive. Which is better than the alternative.” Rogers heaved a sigh, face cradled in his hands. After a few moments he straightened, looked Tony in the eye and said, “Downstairs. You said there was a reason I had to have the hood up. To _hide_.”

“Yeah.” Tony snagged a chair for himself, throwing himself into it with a _whumpf_. “Okay, right, so there’s this government agency called SHIELD...”

He started talking about the night at the Armory, keeping it as simple as possible in deference to the Captain’s knowledge gap. He explained what SHIELD was, their goals, and why they’d had to get Rogers off the Helicarrier for his own safety.

“So the SSR became the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division?”

“Pretty much."

He derailed briefly to give a brief description of modern technology and to explain what a tablet was, then pulled up some of the relevant files to show and told him about the requests for samples of his blood, tissue, and other things that added up to _vivisection_. He skimped on the details of the rescue itself, just the basics. The armor and the Helicarrier could come later.

“We had to leave your shield,” Tony said apologetically, “we couldn’t take you both.”

Steve sighed again. “That’s - that’s alright. I’m not sure I could look at it right now, anyway.”

Tony glanced at him questioningly.

“The shield - and not just the shield, my uniform, _me_ \- were all made by a government agency, and now the people in charge of that agency’s legacy want me dead or on a lab table, just to see if there’s _some_ chance that they could find the key to Doctor Erskine’s serum. If you’d told me that it was HYDRA who’d done all this, I’d have believed you.”

Steve started asking more questions after that, exploring Tony’s tablet, trying to get an idea of exactly what he had missed. By then, the sun was rising on Manhattan, pinpoints of light giving way to chrome brightness as the city sluggishly cranked into its day cycle.

_Beep beep ba-da bip!_

Both men startled as Tony’s cell phone chirped cheerily at them. “It’s probably my dad,” Tony explained, physically pulling out the phone to check it since he didn’t want to explain Extremis yet. Little steps.

Sure enough, it was a text from his father’s cell phone. `Where are you? Is Cap with you?` it asked accusingly, and Tony checked the time. _Ah, shit._

`Up in the penthouse office,` he texted back. `Cap woke up earlier than expected, came up here to show him the view.`

`Are you okay? Is he?`

“Are you... is this like the tablet?” Steve asked, leaning forward. “Are you talking with your father? Over wireless, right?”

Tony grinned. “You’re catching on quick. Yeah, this is called texting. Think radio, but with text on a screen instead of voices. Although I can make calls on this too, and listen to music and play games! As well as a few more functions that aren’t on the usual cell phone plan and may not necessarily be precisely _legal_ , in that there’s really no precedent in the books for ‘em.” He was inordinately proud of his phone, which was weird because he didn’t actually _need_ it anymore, but still.

Cap must be getting used to him babble, because he just nodded and said, “All that on such a little thing? Neat.”

“What, all this future technology, and all I get is _neat_? I’m hurt.” `I’m fine,`Tony texted back, `he's... awake. Not trying to kill, maim, or destroy, so I guess he's alright. Also, he says my phone is neat :D`

`I'm coming up`

“My dad’s on his way up,” Tony added casually, looking back up at Cap, “it’d be his turn to sit with you, if you were still out. Actually, you woke up sooner than expected, we sort of planned it so that _he_ would be the one here to explain everything because I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not always that, uh. Coherent.”

Steve smiled - a _real_ smile, the first since he’d woken up - and said, “I think you’re doing alright.” In the background, the elevator whirred to a stop, doors sliding open.

Tony smiled back. “Well, I guess you’d be the one to judge.”

“The judge of what?” To the untrained eye, Howard Stark was the epitome of nonchalance, with a suit jacket thrown over one shoulder, his body language loose and languid, face cheerful and smiling. But Tony knew his father’s tells and weaknesses; a year after his release from Gene - the Mandarin’s captivity, he still scanned for exits and escape routes, still took careful stock of a situation, still viewed strangers as possible threats until proven otherwise. Despite that (or perhaps because of it), he carefully inserted himself between Tony and Rogers as they stood up to greet him, disguising it with a proffered hand. “Howard Stark. It’s an honor to meet you, Captain Rogers.”

Cap shook his hand, but his smile slid away. “It’s good to meet you as well, Mr. Stark. As for your question, before you came in, your son and I were discussing his effectiveness at explanations, and we agreed to disagree that he’s better at it than he thinks. Tony’s informed of the... situation. I’m afraid I’ve distracted him with all my questions, so I apologize if my actions caused you to worry about him.”

“It’s fine, no worries,” Tony said, at the same time Howard replied, “I will never fault anyone for being curious, only how they act on that curiosity. Tony’s a brilliant young man, and I’m very proud of him. There are worse people you could take your questions too.”

“Daaad,” Tony groaned. He could _feel_ his cheeks flaming, god, this was terrible. “I love you too, can we order some breakfast? I think breakfast sounds like a great idea, what do you want for breakfast, Cap?”

Cap blinked at the sudden change of subject. “I’m, uh, I’m alright for now, thank you.”

His stomach loudly and violently contradicted him. Tony was impressed; even his own stomach couldn’t growl like that.

Howard chuckled. “I’ll call Bruce, see if he can give you a quick checkup to make sure you’re not going to degenerate into a puddle of goo or something. In the meantime, boys, decide what you want to eat, Tony can call in the order.” With that, he took out his cell phone and walked out of earshot.

Tony clapped his hands. “Alrighty, then, let’s expose you to something new and delicious, shall we?”

“It’s breakfast, Tony,” Cap said, adorably confused already, Jesus christ. “What’s to expose?”

“Oh, just you wait, Cap. You’re in for a treat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are there any tutorials on how to properly post formatted fic to AO3? I feel like I'm doing it wrong...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Steve to the 21st century, starting with food.

Steve could honestly say that he’d _never_ seen so much food in one place at the same time. There were eggs and sausages and bacon and ham and homefries and fresh fruits and veggies and other things he didn’t even recognize. There were pitchers of milk and juice, little bowls of white and brown sugar and spices and berries that were bigger than any he’d ever seen before. Plates of bread and buns and _cake_ filled the spaces between the other dishes

“I told the chefs downstairs to go all-out,” Tony grinned, “I wasn’t sure how much you’d eat, and I _know_ Bruce eats a heck of a whole lot, so I figured more was better.”

“I don’t know where to start,” Steve said honestly. There was so much to choose from!

Dr. Banner - “Call me Bruce,” the man had said with a little smile, “now take a deep breath,” - was filling what looked like a serving platter with a little bit of everything, including something that looked like a thick pancake flecked with... stuff. “Okonomiyaki,” Bruce explained, “it’s kind of like a pancake, but it’s topped with stuff like fried egg and has veggies and other things mixed into the batter.”

Sounds edible enough, Steve thought and forked two onto his plate. He looked over to where the Starks were just sitting down to enjoy their own slightly more traditional breakfasts, although Howard had what looked like [orange pudding](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moin_moin) on his plate and Tony was loading up some kind of [flatbread](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roti) with a thick strawberry sauce and cut up banana.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much food in one place before,” Steve admitted. It got him looks of dismayed astonishment (Tony) and understanding commiseration (Howard and Bruce).

Tony swallowed his mouthful of bread and fruit and grinned up at him. “Well it’s a good thing I’ve already decided we need to widen your palate, isn’t it?”

“You don’t need to do that,” Steve replied, then realized immediately that his words could be misconstrued in a negative way and hastily added, “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought! I don’t need special treatment or anything, honestly. But I grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Have I said thank you yet?” He _did_ appreciate what they’d done for him, except maybe for waking him up in this strange new world. But he supposed it was better to wake up amongst allies than in a hostile military lab.

“Of course you deserve special treatment, you’re Captain America.” Tony gave him a conspiratorial grin, as if inviting him to share some silent joke. “If _you_ don’t deserve it, who does?”

And then there was _that._ Steve was Captain America - emphasis on _was_. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a symbol of America if America was controlled by a government that didn’t care about personal rights and freedoms. Maybe he was biased because it was _his_ rights and freedoms being infringed on, but Steve liked to think that if it was someone else in his position, he’d still be upset.

Before he could say anything about it, the conference room door burst open. Steve jumped, alert and jittery, and suddenly his field of vision was filled by red hair and a wide smile.

“Hi! You’re Steve Rogers oh my _gosh_ I didn’t think this would actually _work_ but here you are! Oh wait, is that breakfast? _Great_ , I’m _starving._ ”

As suddenly as she appeared, the damewas gone, flitting around the table and picking out foodstuffs to fill her newly-obtained plate. Steve was left slightly disoriented by the experience.

A cough from the door got his attention. At the threshold stood a coloured man, looking equal parts embarrassed and resigned. “I,” he said with obvious sincerity, “am _so_ sorry about her. I’d say she’s not always like this, but she really is, in varying degrees of intensity.”

The man crossed the last few steps into the room and offered Steve his hand. “Jim Rhodes. You can call me Rhodey if you’d like. The noisy whirlwind over there is Pepper Potts. Nickname,” he added when Steve couldn’t stop his face from scrunching up, “her actual name’s Patricia, but no one calls her that.”

“And since when do you go by Jim, anyway?” Tony asked, jabbing a fork laden with sausage in the man - Rhodey’s - direction.

“Since I started going to college and didn’t want to sound like someone’s grandfather,” Rhodey shot back.

Which meant that ‘Rhodey’ was reserved for a select group of people that apparently included Steve now. Weirdly enough, it made him feel a bit better about - well, everything.

Rhodey nodded once at Steve before picking up a plate for himself. “So how’re you doing, if you don’t mind me asking?” he asked as he slid a couple of waffles off a tall stack. “And if you do mind, feel free to tell me to screw off,” he added with a grin.

Steve popped a piece of sliced apple into his mouth to give himself a few moments. “It’s... well. Like I said to Tony earlier, this isn’t what I imagined when I thought about coming home after the war. But, uh, I’m grateful that I’m not being cut open for science, and you’ve all been very nice to me, so I guess I can’t complain.”

Howard hadn’t spoken much since breakfast had been brought in, but as Steve finished speaking he set aside his fork and knife and said, “This is a great deal to internalize in a short period of time, Captain. You’re allowed to not be okay.”

Steve swallowed as all eyes fell on him. “I _am_ okay, though. For now, at least.” He stared down at his plate, where his sausages and eggs and _okonomiyaki_ were getting cold.

“Are you sure?” Rhodey eyed him critically. “I mean, just ‘cause you’re Captain America -”

“That,” Steve interrupted, it was rude but he couldn’t stop now, “that I have a problem with. Could you all please not call me Captain America? At least for now. The thing is, I don’t think I’m really okay with _being_ Captain America right now.

  
“Captain America stood for freedom and justice and everything that the government hasn’t let me have since they found me in an iceberg. I mean, you basically _abducted_ me and that was the _best_ course of action for almost everyone involved. That’s not what I want to stand for, and that’s not what I want Captain America to be associated with.

Steve sighed. “So I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling me Captain or Cap or anything like that. Right now, I’m just Steve Rogers, trying to figure out what to do next.”

He suddenly realized that the whole room was completely silent. He ducked his head in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap or be rude like that. I just... this is going to take some time.”

“Luckily, you have all the time in the world, now,” Tony threw in cheerfully, fairly obvious in his attempt to break the atmosphere. “You’re an honored guest at Stark Tower, and it sucks that you can’t leave right now, but we’ll do our best to show you everything you’ve missed while you were... sleeping. And when Roberta - Rhodey’s mom, she’s our head lawyer-person - once she sorts out all the legal crap to keep the government from disappearing you the minute it gets out that you’re alive and well, we can take you wherever you want, whenever you want! Just gotta hang in ‘til then, buddy.”

“And we’ll help!” Pepper plopped down into the chair next to his and grinned. Rhodey shot him a thumbs-up in agreement. “Ask us whatever you want and we’ll help you out!”

“I’ll be staying for the time being as well,” Bruce added, “and I’ve been out of the loop for a while, so we can learn about the last few years together.”

“And you don’t have to worry about paying us back,” Howard, who was apparently a mind-reader, said mock-sternly when Steve opened his mouth, “Even without Stark Enterprises, I personally have a fortune at my disposal, and Tony’s made himself more than a little pocket change over the last few years. Lord knows we don’t need compensation, and we’re more than happy to help you get you back on your feet.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands together behind his head and looking totally satisfied. “See? Lots of help. You’re not alone in this, man. We’ll be right behind you.”

Tony’s smile warmed something deep in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you. All of you,” Steve murmured, completely at a loss for something more meaningful to say. What _could_ you say in thanks for helping put his life back together? So instead he picked up his fork and said, “First thing’s first: I’m going to eat myself sick, because this all smell _delicious_ and the last time I ate it was 1945.”

That got him the round of laughter he was looking for, and everyone gladly tucked into their meals.

Later, after the dishes were collected and Rhodey and Pepper escorted Tony down to his quarters when the man started nodding off, Howard pulled him aside and said, “If you ever need to talk with someone who _isn’t_ one of us, just someone to help you sort out your thoughts - we have people who are trained to help bolster mental wellness. I don’t know how familiar you are with psychology and psychotherapy, but it’s come a long way from what you might remember. Tony and I both see therapists on a regular basis, it’s not something to be ashamed of.”

Howard seemed to be picking his words carefully, and Steve appreciated that. Then the last part of what he said sank in. “You _both_ go to... therapy? Why’s that?”

“Tony didn’t tell you?” He seemed honestly surprised that Steve didn’t know whatever it was he thought Tony might have explained. “I suppose that _would_ be a bit much right now. Tell you what, ask me again in a week or so, when you’ve had some time to get a little more used to the world. If it hasn’t come up by then, I’ll be happy to tell you more.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Steve,” Howard’s use of his name was deliberate, but not in a bad way. “If you’d like, I think Bruce was planning to go over the results of your check-up a little more thoroughly, if you’d like to learn more about exactly what changes the Serum made to you.”

The soldier grinned. “I’d like that.”

\- - -

Steve took to the task of educating himself on recent history with a single-minded determination that Tony could appreciate. It may not have been the healthiest way for the soldier to deal with his sudden displacement, but at least he hadn’t holed himself up in a basement somewhere to take his frustration out on an endless supply of punching bags.

Tony woke up to a message saying that Doombots were invading New Jersey, and that War Machine had lost the coin toss and was coordinating with the Fantastic Four for destruction and disposal. Howard had decided to try his hand at playing operator and was at the Armoury. A couple of quick calls confirmed that Rhodey was more irritated and impatient than alarmed and his dad was having fun, so he left them to it.

Once he’d had something to eat, Tony searched out and found Bruce and Pepper in the lab Howard had put together for the doctor just as they finished their explanation of DNA and the changes Project Rebirth had made to Steve’s (answer: a surprisingly large number. Bruce was practically _bouncing._ ) That had somehow led to a conversation about quantum mechanics and the manipulation of reality, and Tony would have been more worried about dumping so much on the man during his first waking day in decades if Steve hadn’t been so enthusiastic about everything they shared with him. True, he didn’t always _understand_ everything, and more often than not they had to derail the conversation to explain something else that had been mentioned, but overall he wasn’t doing too badly.

By the time Steve had satisfied his curiosity, Rhodey and Howard were on their way back to the Tower, complaining of empty stomachs while the sun set on New York City. Once the group had collectively demolished what had to be an entire Ethiopian restaurant’s worth of food, Tony pulled Steve aside and said, “Wanna see your quarters?”

Between the sub-basement, the penthouse office and Bruce’s lab, Steve hadn’t yet been to the livable parts of the Tower. The top four floors of the Tower - the _real_ penthouse, but ‘penthouse office’ sounded better to potential clients - were set up like a rather extravagant apartment.

The bottom-most floor consisted of a media center, a medium-ish sized library, a den and Howard and Tony’s personal offices. Bedrooms, the kitchen, the formal dining room and a media center were on the second floor, while a gym, a couple of storage rooms and a mostly-unused studio area occupied the third floor. The fourth floor was completely occupied by the Starks’ workshop, jokingly referred to by long-time employees as the _real_ R&D department.

In the last three years, Tony had spent less than four months total in the Tower apartment. The rooms and floors were still familiar, still held the warmth of family and safety, but it didn’t have that feeling of _home_ that even the Armoury had _._

Nonetheless, Steve thought it amazing. He all but _ooh’ed_ and _awww’ed_ as Tony showed him around and helped him choose a bedroom.

(He ultimately went with the sloped ceiling room. It had great big skylights but not a good view of the cityscape, and Tony figured he’d picked it for a reason.)

“We’ll get your measurements and have some actual clothes sent up, so if there’s anything in particular that you’d like to wear, let me know,” Tony said as Steve poked around his newly-chosen bedroom. It had a desk, bed, cabinet and an en suite bathroom, but overall rather lacked in personality. They could fix that.

“Just something comfortable would be nice,” Steve replied, “I don’t need anything fancy... unless you think I need something more formal?”

Tony hummed in thought. “Probably not right at the moment, although we should think about it when Roberta comes through with the legal bullshit. If nothing else, you should be seen as a guest of Stark Enterprises to keep people from bothering you, even if you’re not appearing in the capacity of Captain America.”

Steve was just a little too quiet after that, so Tony plowed on. “If you don’t like the furnishings in here we can pull up a catalogue and pick a different set or whatever you want. In the meantime, I wanna show you something.”

They’d toured the third floor already, but Tony had purposefully avoided one specific room, in order to keep himself from getting distracted. It seemed like a time for distractions, though, so he had Steve follow him into the windowless office. Tony waved a hand, and the whole room lit up with blue holographic screens.

Steve’s eyes went wide again. “Jiminy,” he breathed, and Tony was very proud of himself for not laughing.

“I take it you haven’t actually experienced holograms yet?”

Steve shook his head. “I think someone might’ve mentioned something about them. That’s it, though.”

Tony grinned. “You spent most of your time in the labs and eating, right? Holograms by themselves aren’t really sensitive enough for the kind of accuracy someone like Bruce would need when he’s inputting data. Remember the screens he was using? Those were holographic displays; the hologram is projected onto or into some kind of interface, which in Bruce’s lab are basically specially treated panes of glass. It’s way more complicated than that, but I don’t think you’re all that interested in the technical aspects of it.”

“Not really, no,” Steve agreed, still entranced by the blue lights. “Can I...?”

“Touch ‘em, go ahead. You can’t do anything right now, s’in safe mode, kinda.”

Hesitantly, Steve reached out one hand and dragged his fingers across a ‘screen.’ Trails of light followed in the wake of his fingertips, making him grin with delight. “This is amazing,” he murmured.

“I had this room converted before, ah... well, a few years back.” Tony spooled a hard line out of his tablet and plugged it into a wall socket. “I haven’t really used it much up ‘til now, so you can set everything up the way you like it.” Connection established, he fiddled with the tablet and waited for the upload to finish.

“I’m not sure I should try that. I might break something.”

Tony grinned. “No worries, I have just the person to help.” _Just a bit of tweaking and... there._ “Say hi, Jocasta.”

“Hello,” Jocasta's slightly robotic tones emanated from the surround-sound speaker system. Steve’s eyes shot up to the ceiling, surprised. “Sir, I believe your current method of introduction is becoming something of a habit. May I suggest adding some variety to your approach?”

“Ha ha, you think you’re so funny. Your humour algorithms need some work,” Tony turned to Steve and said, “This is Jocasta. She’s an artificial intelligence that I created. Did you ever read Asimov? She’s like one of his robots, except without the body. Jocasta's pretty young yet, so I figured this would be a good way to introduce you both to the world.”

Steve nodded and said to the ceiling, “It’s nice to meet you, Jocasta. I’m glad I’m not the only one who has to take a crash course in current events. I’m Steve, Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers. It’s good to meet you, sir,” Jocasta greeted politely. “I believe I have the advantage, as I have access to every legal network available. However, I do look forward to exploring the collected information on them with you.”

Tony was a little nervous; while he was both surprised and thrilled by the fact that Jocasta's conversational skills had improved in just a few days, he wasn’t sure how well Steve would take to her obvious inhumanity.

Then Steve beamed and said, “Sounds dandy. Are these networks like libraries, then?” and Tony realized that they’d be just fine.

They spent the next hour and a half in the Blue Room, as Steve called it; by then Tony was starting to yawn again, and even Steve was looking a little red-eyed. “Walk you to your room?” Tony offered, smothering another yawn in his fist.

It said something about Steve that only _now_ the man started to look nervous. “I think I’ve slept long enough, don’t you?” he said, probably trying for light and cheerful and missing by a nautical mile.

“There’s a difference between cryostasis and actual sleep.” Steve nodded in that way Tony had learned meant he didn’t actually understand what was being said but didn’t care enough to mention it. “What’s wrong? I mean, uh, besides, er-”

“Everything?” Steve broke in, voice soft and smile sad but genuine. “There’s nothing particularly _wrong_ with me being here, you know. Just that I’m here and everyone I know... isn’t.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m... afraid, to be perfectly honest. I’m afraid that I’ll wake up tomorrow and another lifetime will have passed, or maybe this will all have been a long, strange dream, and I’ll wake up in the trenches or a bombed-out building or another leaking tent.” His whole body sagged, as if admitting his secret had drained him of something vital that kept him standing tall and proud.

Tony wondered at the change less than a day had brought on Steve. This morning, waking up for the first time in decades, Steve had been full of suspicion and carefully leashed violence. Now, here he was, deflated and looking as lost as he probably felt. Tony floundered; he wasn’t good at people-things. Rhodey and Pepper would emphatically attest to that. He never really knew what to say or do when people came to him with their problems, if it wasn’t something he could fix with his hands or his repulsors. Still, he had try.

“Tell you what,” he said finally, trying to sound confident and _not_ like he was making things up on the fly, “you don’t need as much sleep as the average person, right?”

“Only four or five hours a night,” Steve confirmed. “I’ll sleep a full eight or nine if it’s been a bad run. Think the most I slept at one time after the Serum was twelve hours, and I’d been up for a week non-stop at that point.”

Tony nodded. “It’ll probably still be dark when you wake up, then.” He fiddled with his tablet, putting on some final touches before handing it over to Steve. “Here. Keep this on your bedside. It’s built to withstand a lot of stress, so if you throw it or something it’ll probably survive. If not, I’ll get you a new one. Anyway! Touch this,” Tony pointed to an app with a cartoon wind-up alarm clock on the icon, “and it’ll turn on the mic. That mic is ultra-sensitive, so it’ll pick up the sound of your breathing. It’ll ask for a baseline, and all you need to do for that is breath normally. Then, when it detects your sleep-breathing, it’ll set an alarm for four hours. When the time’s up, the holographic projector in the tablet’ll show _this._ ”

With a flourish, Tony activated the alarm, and the room filled with a hologram of the Milky Way. Steve’s face lit up, grinning at the display. “Jocasta's connected to the tablet, so she’ll start repeating the time, date and forecast when the time’s up, but I can change that if you like.”

“No, this is - this is great.” The hologram shut down and Steve shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of something like that.”

It was Tony’s turn to grin. “Glad to hear it, ‘cause it’s not going anywhere. So. Bed?”

This time, Steve’s smile was more honest. “Sure. Kids like you need a lot of sleep, right?”

“ _Kid?!_ ” Tony squawked. “I am not a _kid._ I am a growing, mature young man. I am a genius millionaire by my own right, I am an inventor and an up-and-coming captain of industry, I am-”

“Tired,” Steve poked him as Tony let out a jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Clothes and furniture in the morning,” Tony declared as they stopped by Steve’s room. “I mean it. This is far too impersonal, you need more _you_ stuff.”

“In the morning,” Steve agreed, mood lifted. They said their good nights, said them again to Howard and Bruce as the older men turned in, and finally went to bed.

_Today was a good day,_ Tony thought as he drifted off to sleep. _Good way to start the summer._

\- - -

As it turned out, Steve didn’t have to wait a week for Howard’s explanation.

As promised, Tony’s alarm woke him up with the galaxy in his room and Jocasta's pleasant voice murmuring the date and time, which was four twenty-eight in the morning. Steve just laid there for a few minutes, luxuriating in his soft, warm bed - _his! -_ and the absolutely amazing sight that was the cloud of stars hovering over his bed.

_Bucky would love this,_ he thought, and then immediately tried to swallow back the tears that Bucky’s memory always seemed bring. _Time heals all wounds,_ Steve mused, a little bitter. _Apparently seventy years spent sleeping doesn’t count._

Time for a distraction. Steve swung himself up and out of bed, snagging the tablet on his way to the wardrobe. “Hey Jocasta, can we use the Blue Room again?” he asked quietly, not wanting to accidently wake up any of the floor’s other tenants.

“Certainly, sir.” As far as Steve knew, he was the only one Jocasta referred to as ‘sir’ besides Tony, likely as some kind of compromise for not being able to call him Captain. She’d been somewhat stymied by his insistence to not be addressed by his rank, and Tony had refused to let her call him ‘Mr. Rogers’ for some reason that the younger man swore he’d explain later.

Satisfied that a pair of loose cotton pants over the boxer shorts he wore to bed were adequate early-morning wear (and after he untangled and untucked his t-shirt from them both), he quietly slipped out of his room and padded over to the stairs that would take him to the third level.

Once he was safely inside the Blue Room, however, Steve realized that he had no idea what he wanted to ask Jocasta about. He didn’t really feel up to more history or pop culture right that moment, and he figured it’d be a better idea to wait until someone could walk him through some of the more modern advances in science.

Then he had a thought.

“Jocasta,” Steve said to the ceiling, “Tony’s mother. Is she not around?”

“Maria Carbonell-Stark died of lung cancer shortly after the birth of her son,” Jocasta replied without inflection.

Steve winced. “Alright, now I know what _not_ to ask. In that case, what can you tell me about the Stark Family? About Tony and Howard, that is?”

The answer: a _lot._ Dozens of blue-light windows popped up into existence around him. Steve shifted idly between them, scanning over the information presented, then gently batting it away to read again later. He made note of things like Stark International and Stark Enterprises and when one apparently became the other, magazine covers and newspaper editorials praising the genius of father and son, reports of Howard’s death and exultant retractions dated two years later, stories about his miraculous return.

After a few minutes of this, something caught his eye. It was a motion picture playing over and over, focused on what looked like a red and gold robot flying through the sky.

_Now_ that’s _what I expected to see in the future,_ Steve thought with a grin.

His smiled died when he scrolled down the page, to a picture from a news article. The robot’s faceplate had come off, and with a start he realized it wasn’t a robot at all. It couldn’t be, because that was _Tony’s_ face framed by shiny red metal, smile highlighted by a smudge of soot on his cheek.

He took another look at the article. _IRON MAN APPREHENDS THE WRECKING CREW IN DOWNTOWN QUEENS_ , the headline screamed at him. Written by a Ben Urich, it described how ‘New York’s high-tech hero’ single-handedly defeated a dangerous band of thugs.

_“What’s New York going to do when I’m in Boston for college?” Tony Stark asks in jest, joking and laughing just minutes after he was nearly crushed to death by a demolition ball-wielding villain_ and Steve has to stop and just _breathe_ for a moment.

“Okay,” he said when he could stand up straight again, “let’s come back to that later.”

_Later_ being when Tony walked in nearly four hours later, sporting an impressive case of bedhead and clad in what could very well have been silk pajamas. “Hey Steve,” he yawned, rubbing one eye sleepily, “what have you been up to ‘til now?”

Steve cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. How do you tell someone you’d been reading about their life? “I, uh,” he stammered, “I asked Jocasta about, um. You, actually.” He shifted his weight, feeling a little uncomfortable in his own skin.

Tony blinked. “Asked about me how? About what?” He didn’t sound hostile, mostly surprised and maybe a little anxious. But the press hadn’t lied about Tony’s intelligence, and the man’s eyes widened in understanding before Steve had a chance to speak. “You found out about Iron Man.”

Steve nodded. “Not... much. I found an article about the Wrecking Crew and how you took them on.”

“Really? Geez, that was months ago. Almost a year, actually, happened right before I left for Boston.” Tony had moved beside Steve and flipped the window in question so he could see it better. “Not my best picture, but - anyway. What do you know?”

“Just that,” Steve answered. He swallowed. “I couldn’t bring myself to look further into it. I thought - I mean, I’d hoped that, when the war ended, we’d be done with self-aggrandizing loonies. But it looks like there’s more of them than ever.”

Tony sighed. “You are about to become very disillusioned in humanity.” Then he took a closer look at the window. “Hey, this says you last accessed this page a couple hours ago. What have you been doing since then?”

A blush chased over Steve’s cheeks, and not for the first time he cursed his fair complexion. “Jocasta saw that I was upset, so she started showing me videos of kittens,” he admitted.

“... She showed you videos of kittens.” A beat or two of staring, and _then_ there was the laughter Steve had expected, Tony doubling over with the force of it.

“S-sorry,” Tony gasped, “shouldn’t laugh, s’rude. Not laughing at you. Just didn’t expect that.”

“I like kittens,” Steve muttered mulishly, sending Tony off into another round of giggles. He couldn’t stop his own lips from curling at the surprisingly boyish laughter, though, and he had to admit that this was a better end to that particular confrontation than he’d expected.

“So do you wanna see the armor?” Tony asked when he’d recovered. “Honestly, I would have told you about this earlier, but I thought it was kind of a lot to dump on you at once.”

Steve made a sound of sudden understanding. “Your father mentioned that he might explain something to me in a week if you hadn’t gotten around to it. I’m guessing this was what he was talking about.”

“Depends on what he was offering to explain.” Tony looked a little wary again, but not in a bad way, if that was possible. “Can you tell me?”

“Uh, therapy.”

“Ah.” Any remaining mirth drained out of Tony’s face, though luckily it didn’t seem to take his good humour with it. “How ‘bout we go up to the workshop and I’ll tell you how it all began.”

So they trooped up to the workshop, where Tony assembled his armor (which was much, much more awesome in person.) He told Steve about the original purpose of the armor, about the machinations of his father’s partner and the plane crash that changed the lives of the Starks and those around them. He spoke of the Mandarin, of a boy who let his quest for power overwhelm his better nature, and how Temugin Khan had held Howard Stark captive for nearly two years because of it. He talked about the aliens the Mandarin brought down on Earth and how a team of heroes banded together to defeat them.

Tony told him more about SHIELD and Nick Fury and Maria Hill, who hadn’t been mentioned the morning previous. He told the soldier about the damage to his heart and how Extremis had fixed him.

“I actually did the injection in the room you were in. Technically right in front of you,” the inventor said off-handedly, and Steve... hadn’t known how to feel about that.

“What about Stark International?” Steve asked, trying to change the subject a bit. “I kept reading about it, and Stark Solutions. Are they part of Stark Enterprises?”

“They are now.” Tony reclined back into the ratty but surprisingly comfortable couch they’d retired to once the armour was put away. “Basically, after Obadiah went all Iron Monger on us and before Dad was back or I was old enough to take over Stark International, it got bought out by this _enormous_ asshole, Justin Hammer. Lucky for us he wound up engineering his own destruction, and once we proved that he was a bonafide bad guy, Dad got control of SI again.”

“And Stark Solutions?”

Tony grinned. “That was the company I started after Hammer took over. He cut off my trust fund, which meant that I couldn’t pay for repairs or upgrades on the suits. So I started up Stark Solutions, started making and selling patents to NASA and the CSA - uh, that’s the American and Canadian space agencies, respectively.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever stopped being amazed by the future, have I said that?”

“Once or twice. Anyway, sold patents, made contracts with SHIELD for exclusive rights for repairs on the Helicarrier, and we had all our money back.

“But honestly? I never wanted to run the company.” Tony stared off into the distance, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his knee. “I would have, and I would have worked hard at it too, because it was Dad’s legacy and I wanted to respect that. But when he came back and took over SI again, I was honestly relieved that I wouldn’t have to. Does that make me sound bad?”

“It makes you sound like a dutiful son who had a lot of responsibility and not enough time to get used to it, who was glad when he didn’t have to so quickly.” Steve smiled at him, trying to convey how impressed he was by his new friend’s actions.

It must have worked, because Tony smiled back and continued. “After the Makluan invasion, Dad and I sat down and talked about where we wanted to go from there, now that the public knew who I was. I wanted to keep doing the hero thing, but I also wanted to get an education, because it doesn’t matter if you’re one of the planet’s brightest minds, no one takes you seriously if you don’t have at _least_ a few letters behind your name.

“We ended up merging the two companies, going with the name Stark Enterprises to try and combat the negative attention International had gained in the past couple of years. Dad and I each own a controlling interest in the company, but I’m pretty content to let him have the final say.” Tony chuckled. “When I was little, the newspapers used to say that Stark International was as much his baby as I was. They weren’t wrong; I know Dad won’t run us into a gutter, so I can worry about things like school and world-saving.”

“Not exactly the average young man’s hobby,” Steve noted wryly.

“Nope! And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tony stood up and stretched. “Okay, wow, my mouth is really dry, and Dad and Bruce are probably wondering where the hell we went. Breakfast?”

Steve’s stomach rumbled at the thought. “Sounds good to me.”

As they exited the shop, Steve looked back into the Iron Man’s stern face. _Thank you for protecting him,_ he thought, _even if he would have been better off without you._

“Coming, Steve?”

“Right behind you, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually going to go more into detail on what Steve learns in the lab with Bruce, but I realized that a) I'm going to have to do a LOT more research on that, and b) it was kind of getting off topic and I didn't have time to take it further. Instead, I'll eventually be posting that and another 'deleted scene' of sorts as one-shots later on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing Steve's education, and a revelation or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Subtitle: holy shit, we're actually seeing something resembling plot!)

Steve sucked in knowledge like a sponge. In the early mornings, when no one else was awake, he took to the Blue Room to cram on world history, starting with the end of World War II. After a few hours, he’d take a break and try his hand at making breakfast if no one else had.

(The first morning had been quite spectacular - the pantry was well stocked, and Jocasta had apparently had fun recommending recipes and telling him how to use the many unfamiliar kitchen appliances.)

The time between breakfast and lunch was usually spent with Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, or any permutation of the three. Howard sometimes joined them, but he usually had Stark Enterprises business to attend to; Bruce, on the other hand, usually used the morning to take advantage of his shiny new lab and work on some experiments he’d theorized on over the years.

The morning was usually spent discussing what Steve had learned before breakfast, discussing topics of interest he’d unearthed during the morning trawl and/or watching cartoons and explaining the connotations behind them.

(“Why does it look like someone’s taken a bite out of the planet?” Steve asked once.

Rhodey and Tony had said something to the effect of “because why not?” but Pepper actually had an answer for it involving something about a web comic and “I’ll show it to you when you’ve got more of a handle on recent pop culture, it’s got a lot of references and Nic Cage.”)

Lunch was usually either take-out or Bruce-made, since the physicist stuck his head out for a breath of air around that time. Tony’s vow to increase Steve’s palate ensured that they never repeated a meal unless Steve specifically asked for it.

(Bruce’s empanadas seemed to be a particular hit, probably because he put something in the dough that made them positively _divine_ , no matter what the filling was.)

Although it took him a few days to establish, Steve found that he preferred to spend a couple of hours after lunch reading quietly, be it more history on his tablet or one of the many novels Howard stocked their library with. Usually Howard joined him, needing an hour or two of peace and quiet to do paperwork. If Steve had a question, Howard was more than happy to answer, but for the most part the time passed in silence. Tony and Bruce tended used that time to attend to their personal projects in the lab or the shop. If Pepper and/or Rhodey were staying for the afternoon, they divided their time evenly between the shop, Bruce’s lab (when they were allowed) and reading with Steve.

(Howard later admitted that the silence was soothing, and that he didn’t always spend that time doing paperwork; apparently the latest John Grisham novel was quite compelling.)

Around three o’clock, Howard would have to go back downstairs and Bruce came out of his lab to work on their pop culture references. They didn’t really follow a set course; actually, Bruce just tended to open a Wikipedia page and they’d start following links.

(Their aimless browsing led to some rather interesting revelations, and no matter what Tony did, Steve would never tell him what they’d found the one time he’d caught Steve blushing to the roots of his hair while Bruce _howled_ with laughter.)

By the time supper came around, Rhodey and Pepper usually made the decision to either go home or stay the night. If they stayed, the collected group often spent the evening in the entertainment center, watching movies and talking about what Steve had learned that day (a surprising amount of which the youngsters hadn’t known either, which visibly made Steve feel better.)

If the other members of Team Iron Man left for the night, the four men would eat in the kitchen and discuss Stark Enterprises or Bruce’s work or answer Steve’s questions. Some nights Steve would begin the conversation with an enthusiastic exclamation about something he’d learned that day, which led to a heart-raising and humorous exchange, at least in Tony’s opinion.

“Tony!” Steve cried, and holy crap the soldier was actually _bouncing on his toes_. Tony should not have found that as adorable as he did. “Tony, being queer isn’t illegal anymore! Queers can even get married now! Isn’t that _wonderful_?”

… Alright, not the topic he was expecting. Tony could run with it, though. “I guess that would be a big thing, considering how they dealt with LGBT issues way back when. Uh, also, most people don’t call it ‘being queer’ anymore, although that’s up to each individual, I suppose. The ones who are gay - homosexual - we’re the ones who get to pick what we’re called, straight people can screw right off.”

Steve blushed slightly. “Right, Bruce went over all that with me, I just forgot for a moment there.”

Then he blinked. “Wait, _you’re_ qu- uh, homosexual? Gay?”

Tony laughed at Bruce’s outright horrified expression (at the direction of the conversation; he knew that Bruce was cool with his orientation, they’d had this conversation already). “Depending on the person it can be kind of rude to just ask like that, too. But to answer your question, technically I’m not gay. I definitely like girls _that way,_ but I like boys too.”

“Bisexual, then.”

“That’s right.” Tony nodded. “You okay with that?”

“Of course!” Steve looked equal parts scandalized and contrite, oddly enough. He paused, holding his breath in a way that suggested there was something else he wanted to add. After a moment he just shook his head and said, “Judging people for who they love is stupid and wrong. Love is love and it’s wonderful in every way.”

“Then we’re good.” Tony poked his head back into the pantry. “Hey Bruce, what can you make with white beans and minced turkey?”

And that was that.

Routine set, the days in the Stark Tower passed quickly, if not necessarily quietly (mostly because if it got too quiet, Tony got antsy and blew something up in the shop). After three weeks of that routine, Steve had a basic grasp of the past seventy years and was starting to get a bit antsy himself. He admitted to Tony one night, when it was just the two of them (Pepper and Rhodey having gone home for the night, Bruce and Howard flailing happily over the results of one of Bruce’s long-term projects), that he was ready to see the world he’d woken up to.

“I’ve had enough of reading the history and watching the videos and looking at the pictures,” he said beseechingly. “I want to go _be_ in it. This is the city I was born in; I want to see how much she’s grown.”

“It sucks, Steve, and I’m sorry,” Tony spread his hands helplessly. “But there’s nothing we can do until Rhodey’s mum can come up with something.”

Luckily, Roberta always had an excellent sense of timing.

\- - -

Mrs. Rhodes looked like a formidable woman; Steve had only known her for a minute or two, but it was already obvious that Rhodey had inherited his spunk from her.

“Captain Rogers,” she’d greeted, warm and confident, offering her hand. He took it and wasn’t surprised at all by her firm grip. “It’s good to finally meet you. I feel like I know you better than I should after wading through your personnel files for so long. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, ma’am. Thank you for taking on my case,” Steve offered her a shy smile. “I’m sorry, but it might be a while before I can repay you.”

She waved him off. “Nonsense, I’m already getting paid for this, it’s considered a company expense. And please, call me Roberta.”

“Only if you call me Steve.” They traded smiles and Steve mentally patted himself on the back for not screwing up Roberta’s first impression of him. Sure, there was plenty of time for him to make himself look like a yuck, but at least the first meeting had gone well. “Are we waiting for Tony and Howard, then?”

The two were currently standing in the first-floor den; Tony had left him a message on his tablet, telling Steve that they had a meeting there with Roberta about Steve’s issue with the Army.

“We are. Howard texted me to say that his meeting was running a little late and he’d be up as soon as it was finished, but I have no idea where Tony is.” She sat down on one of the plush sofas and beckoned for Steve to sit.

“I think he said something about rogue mutants,” Steve said as he settled down next to the lawyer.

“Ooh, that can get nasty. I know James isn’t out there with him, he’s doing a tour of West Point. Is Pepper backing him up?”

“I think so. It sounded like she was going to meet him there.” Steve sighed a little. “You seem rather accepting of your son’s... extra-curricular activities.”

It was Roberta’s turn to sigh. “Honestly? I don’t approve of it. I may accept it, but I don’t approve of it, even if it is good work he and Tony and Pepper are doing.”

She leaned back into the sofa, eyes distant. “I worry, of course. I’m James’ mother, and I’m the closest thing Tony has to a mother since Maria died, Allah rest her soul in peace. I worry about them both, and Pepper too, of course. However, I know that none will stop, and none of them are _going_ to stop any time soon. Barring a debilitating injury or a life-altering incident, of course, and neither of which I really wish on anyone, much less my kids.

“My son always intended to follow in his father’s footsteps, and Tony’s life is going to be fraught with danger, whether he’s a superhero or not. Someone’s always going to want his smarts, and someone is always going to see him as a pawn to use against Howard or Stark International- Stark Enterprises, sorry.

“So I can accept that James and Pepper and Tony are superheroes and act accordingly, like making sure they have back-up, or I can _not_ accept it and make life miserable and complicated for everyone.” Roberta turned and quirked a little grin at him then. “Does that clear it up for you?”

Steve flushed, embarrassed. “Yes ma- Roberta. I’m sorry, it was rude of me to ask, wasn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Roberta smiled at him, a real smile this time. “I’m glad to hear you’re concerned for your friends. They _are_ your friends, right? Not just Stockholm Syndrome kicking in? Wait, do you know what Stockholm Syndrome is?”

“I do, ma- Roberta,” Steve chuckled, “and yes, the Starks and Pepper and Rho- James and Bruce are definitely my friends and I couldn’t ask for better. No inappropriate bonding with my captors here.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Howard said as he walked into the den. “Although I’m not sure I’ll be taking your word on the Stockholm thing, we’ll wait until you’ve had a chance to make other friends first.” He settled into an armchair on the other side of the coffee table in front of Steve and Roberta’s sofa. “On that note, Roberta, what’ve you got for us?”

Roberta cocked an eyebrow and said, “Lots, but aren’t we waiting for Tony?”

“He and Pepper just finished up downtown, they’re picking James up from West Point and will be here in about a half hour. I’ve been told that we’re okay to go ahead. So?”

A briefcase materialized into Roberta’s hand, and Steve realized she must have brought it with her and put it aside before he’d come to greet her.

“I’ve done about as much research as I can,” Roberta began, “but as you can imagine, there’s no precedent for this. I’m pretty sure we have a solid case against Talbot personally and the Army at large, but some of it may depend on whether or not Steve here wants to resign his commission.”

She caught Steve’s eye and continued, “Your obligation has absolutely been satisfied, because if mostly dying for your country doesn’t do it, then I sure as hell don’t know what will. If you _do_ resign, especially if you resign in protest of the human rights violations that the Army intended to engage in, it’ll make our case look better to the judge if and when it comes to that. It’s not necessary, though; I have alternatives if you’d rather not.”

“I’d already planned to resign, whether this worked or not,” Steve said firmly. “Get me the paperwork and I’ll sign where you tell me.” Then he flushed again, since he probably shouldn’t be telling the lawyer in charge of his future what to do. “Uh, whenever it’s convenient for you, of course.”

Roberta and Howard both laughed at that. “Not a problem, Steve,” Roberta replied, “I’ll have the papers drawn up and ready by the end of the day.”

“You really think we’ve got this in the bag?” Howard asked.

“Not in the bag, but we’ve definitely got a good shot at winning if this does go to court,” Roberta nodded.

A gentle vibration rumbled through the den’s ceiling and walls. “That’ll be the kids,” Howard said. “Are we going to go into some of the more technical details, Roberta?”

“I was planning to, if you guys don’t fall asleep halfway through.” Roberta hefted a laptop out of the briefcase. “I’ll pull up some stuff while we’re waiting.”

Steve couldn’t hold back the question burning at the back of his throat any longer. “How long ‘til I can go outside again?” he blurted. “How long until I don’t have to worry about watching my back in case government mooks are out to get me?”

Roberta and Howard’s looks were sympathetic, which was a step up from pitying, at least. “I can’t say anything for certain, and I definitely don’t want you to build up false hope,” Roberta cautioned. “On the other hand, since Howard and I are planning on approaching the Chief of Staff tomorrow, and if we can convince her not to fight us too much on this, we can have this done and over with by next week.”

A week. If everything went exceedingly well, he could be out on the streets again in a week.

“Am I allowed to be cautiously optimistic?” Steve asked with a slow smile.

“Cautiously optimistic about what?” Pepper asked as the trio of armour pilots entered the room.

“Cautiously optimistic about when we can spring you from this joint?” Tony asked playfully, slinging himself onto the sofa next to Steve. Pepper took the armchair next to Howard while Rhodey kissed his mother’s cheek and perched on the armrest next to her.

“Cautious optimism is alright, but I wouldn’t be much more than that. And yes, Tony, Steve asked when we’d be able to take him out on the town,” Roberta answered.

“Roberta thinks that things could be wrapped up by next week at the earliest,” Steve elaborated, growing excited despite the warnings.

“That’s great, Steve!” Pepper clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“Let’s not plan anything before we know for certain that we can convince Army officials not to pursue legal action,” Howard said, a frown wrinkling between his eyebrows. “In fact, if we plan anything, it should be contingency plans in case Talbot tries something underhanded.”

The room’s ambient mood dropped down a few notches. “Let’s go through the material first,” Roberta said, “and then we can make plans, for better or worse.”

With that, Roberta launched into a detailed explanation of how she and Howard intended to present their case to the Chief of Staff, what materials they were using, and how they were going to be used. Bruce wandered in at some point, offering some advice about his own dealings with the Army (which still horrified Steve to some extent). By the time they wrapped things up, everyone agreed that it was time for dinner.

_A week_ , Steve thought as the collected group tucked into the meal Bruce had whipped up for them, _With luck, I’ll be outside in a week_.

He could hardly wait.

\- - -

Tony spun his chair in a gentle circle, staring up at the ceiling and worrying his lower lip. He and Howard were _technically_ in a business meeting, ideally discussing if and how the Stark Solutions division would function independently from the rest of the company. So far they’d achieved exactly dick all except for polishing off a box of donuts between them, but that wasn’t what had Tony afraid to open his mouth.

Luckily, Howard picked up on Tony’s muted distress without Tony having to say anything at all. “Something on your mind, son?”

Tony sighed. “I’m not entirely sure how to ask this without sounding like a total dick, is all.”

“Uh oh,” Howard leaned forward, resting his chin on steepled fingers with his elbows braced on the desk. “Is it about Steve?”

“No. Not really. Kind of? I dunno, it’s just having Steve here’s been making me think.”

Howard made a sound that Tony mentally translated to mean _go on_ and did so. “I’ve been thinking about something Fury said to me a while back - he said that he was putting a team together, and he wanted me on it. I declined, then. I was thinking about it before, but I’m sure as hell not doing it now. SHIELD might be good at what it does, and I wish Pepper every luck on getting into it if they ever recover from Talbot’s asshattery, but I do not want to be on a team of superheroes that’ll be subject to SHIELD and their backers’ every whim.”

“I think I see where this is going, but continue,” Howard encouraged.

Tony smiled at him, grateful. “As you’ve probably guessed, I’ve been toying with the idea of starting my own team like that. Maybe not a full-time _team_ team; the people I’d be trying to recruit probably have their own obligations, but if I got enough people to join, maybe we could arrange a kind of rotating roster, do like an on-call off-call thing. Of course, I’d have to get people to join first, which could be a problem. Would a bunch of independent heroes even _want_ to be on a team like that?”

“You’d have to give them incentive,” Howard mused, and that was _exactly_ the opening Tony needed.

“I was thinking I’d offer them a place to stay, a salary. Maybe arrange something with the Maria Stark Foundation for funding, I don’t want anyone to think that I’d own these people.”

Howard _hmm_ ’ed thoughtfully. “Where would you put them?”

“That depends. Do we still own the mansion on Fifth Ave?”

The Stark Mansion in Manhattan had been the family’s home since Tony’s grandfather had purchased it from a business magnate back in the sixties. It had been a bit of a fixer-upper, but Alexander Stark had been flush with the money a budding Stark International was making. Over the course of five years the whole place was renovated from the ground up. The workmanship had been top-notch; even now, some forty years later, nearly a century since it had been originally built and only minimal maintenance, the Mansion could probably take a missile to the face and come out the other side mostly unharmed. The massive three-story building took up the bulk of a 10 acre lot, and what remained had been landscaped within an inch of its life into a clear, rolling lawn and some tasteful trees and bushes.

Probably the most useful, however, was the little-known series of basements Howard had installed when Alexander died and his son inherited the mansion. At the time, Howard had intended for the Mansion to be his base of operations and used the secret pay-out he’d received for designing and overseeing the construction of the Helicarrier to build the sub-levels he’d predicted that he’d need as technology advanced in the future.

What he couldn’t predict was falling for the fiery daughter of a world renowned chemist... or that their love story would be cut tragically short by her death just months after the birth of their son. After that, Howard had claimed that the Mansion seemed too empty, and arranged for an addition to be put on the future Stark Tower being built on the other side of Manhattan. He and baby Tony moved into the Tower apartment as soon as it was habitable. The family of two hadn’t used it since.

Evidently Tony was not as transparent as he thought, because Howard blinked in surprise and said, “You know, I never even thought about that. The Foundation’s not there anymore, so I think it’s mostly being used for storage right at the moment.”

Howard had given permission for the Maria Stark Foundation to use it for their headquarters; in the wake of 9/11, however, the Foundation had elected to move to a somewhat less conspicuous location. Apparently they _still_ got angry phone call concerning their ‘recent move.’

“It’s strategically sound,” Tony reasoned. “The Mansion is in a fairly central location to New York, where crazy seems to come to die; a more advanced security system can be installed with minimal fuss, the basements are basically empty and ready to be customized as needed, there’s _tons_ of room-”

“I get it, I get it,” Howard chuckled. “So how did you want to go about doing this?”

“I was thinking I’d purchase the mansion from you. I was kinda planning on doing that anyway, whether the team thing went through or not.” Tony shrugged at his father’s quizzical glance. “The Armoury’s great, but it kinda sucks to sleep in it. And while I love it here in the Tower, Dad, it’s not really _home_ anymore. Not for me.”

Howard smiled with a touch of sadness. “I understand, Tony. You’ve long since learn to fly; it’s not surprising that you’re ready to leave the nest. I just wish I’d been there to see you spread your wings for the first time.”

Tony’s eyes were stinging, but he totally wasn’t crying. The air was probably too dry or something. “You’re here now,” he said, voice catching only a little, “and that’s better than I could have hoped for after the plane crash.”

“That it is,” Howard agreed softly.

They sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?” Howard asked finally.

Tony nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll have Legal draw up the appropriate paperwork, since Roberta’s rather busy right now.” Howard sat back again. “Now, to business.”

\- - -

Unfortunately, a week wasn’t quite long enough to win back Steve’s freedom. It was, however, long enough to convince the Chief of Staff of the Army to aid the attempt. According to the stony-faced General Johnson, she hadn’t been aware of Steve’s exact situation.

They were meeting in the Stark conference room; Howard and Roberta thought that having Steve there in person might help to further cement Johnson’s help. Steve wasn’t entirely sure, but it made him feel better to be at least _slightly_ involved in some way.

“SHIELD doesn’t directly report to the American government, although we are one of their major stakeholders and one of the few governments that can shut it down outright,” she explained, looking Steve right in the eye. “As such, most of my information outside of a crisis comes second hand through liaisons; in this case, General Talbot.

“This is not an excuse, Captain Rogers, but I offer you my most sincere apologies. Everything I’d received on the subject of your health assured me that you were stone-cold dead. Well preserved, but dead. Had I known otherwise, I would have never approved Talbot’s proposal.”

Steve didn’t always thank his military training, but at that moment he did, because the straight-back posture and deliberately blank-faced look one learned from his superiors were an excellent way to hide the churning in his gut. “Thank you, ma’am, I appreciate the sentiment.”

They talked for several hours, discussing Steve’s removal from the Helicarrier, his adjustment to the 21st century, and what he intended to do with himself once he was free of Talbot’s machinations.

“You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay with the Army?” Johnson asked at one point, mostly as a joke. “I’m certain we can come up with a specialized position for you, or lend you to SHIELD if that’s your preference.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, ma’am,” Steve said firmly. “I’d always intended to retire after the war, and - well, it doesn’t get much more ‘after’ than this. I’d like to have a chance to determine my own future.”

Johnson smiled warmly. “Not an unreasonable request, I suppose.”

When the meeting was over, Johnson shook Steve’s hand and said, “If nothing else, Captain, I’m glad that you’ll have a chance the experience the future you helped to preserve and protect. While I’m sure that you’ve heard this before, I want to thank you on behalf of the American people for your invaluable contributions, both to the war in general and against HYDRA in particular.”

Steve felt his ears turned bright red. “I can’t take much of the credit, ma’am, but I’m glad I was able to make a difference.”

\- - -

“Hey.”

Steve jumped and whipped his pencil over his shoulder at the sound of the voice.

“Geez!” It was probably more Tony’s training with the armour than Extremis’ enhanced reactions that kept him from receiving an eye socket full of lead.

Steve blanched. “Tony! I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” Tony brushed him off, examining the pencil. Or rather, what was visible of the pencil. “Little stressed, Steve? I’m impressed, I’d have to blow something up to embed it this far into the drywall.”

“I’m really, really, sorry,” Steve said morosely. “I didn’t mean to do that. I haven’t done anything like that since waking up.”

“Probably just nerves, and it’s partly my fault for sneaking up on you.” Tony took a bit of floor next to Steve, staring out at the city from the studio’s window bank. “On the other hand, you’re probably not going to want to use that pencil again. Where’d you find this stuff, anyway?”

‘This stuff’ was the sheafs of thick artists’ paper and a tin full of professional-grade graphite pencils. Steve had found a large slat of thin, flat wood and was using it as a desk, propped up against his knees.

“I found it in the desk over there when I was looking for something your dad asked me to find.” He frowned, wondering if it was special somehow. “Am I not allowed to use it?”

“No, no, please do!” Tony somehow flung his arms in three different directions at once, and what did it say about Steve that he knew that Tony was trying to assure him by it? “I honestly had no idea where it came from, I usually use computers for my designs. I don’t think I’ve used actual paper for blueprints in... at least two years. Probably longer.”

“Your loss. Future technology is neat, but I’ll take charcoal and a scrap of newspaper to draw on any day.”

Tony glanced at Steve’s board curiously. “I didn’t know you were an artist. That’s amazing.”

Something warm bloomed in Steve’s stomach. “Thanks! It’s not perfect, but I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out.”

The picture he was drawing was something of a collage, and it had been a project of his for the last week to try to keep his mind off his case. He’d started it early one morning when he couldn’t sleep anymore and didn’t really feel like trying to absorb any new information. The page was neatly bisected by a thick, dark line along the horizontal axis. The New York City skyline as Steve remembered it from his childhood rose up from one side of the line under portrait sketches of Peggy, Bucky, Colonel Phillips and the Howling Commandos all lounging around on a tank; on the mirror side, Tony, Pepper, Rhodey were gathered around a suit gauntlet, while Roberta gracefully wielded a pen as Bruce and Howard studied a computer screen, the New York as seen outside the studio window hanging above them.

“We should hang this up somewhere when you’re finished.” Tony grinned at Steve, making his stomach burn hot again. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve mumbled, not really knowing what he was agreeing to and not really caring, either, because he was distracted by the sudden realization of what that bright, burning feeling was.

_I cannot possibly be sweet on him,_ Steve thought desperately as Tony launched into some animated explanation of... something. _It’s too soon, I’m just grateful for his help, I-_

Tony smiled at him again, bright and honest and _beautiful_ , and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in a very familiar way. It’d done that a lot around Peggy.

_Aw, nuts._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finally gets his chance to venture outdoors and meet some new people. But are those people what they seem?

Three weeks after discovering Steve’s totally rad artistic abilities, he and Tony were holed up in the Tower’s shop. Steve was interested in some of the more specialized Iron Man suits, so Tony decided to take the afternoon to show off the Space Armour.

“I still can’t believe that there were men on the Moon,” Steve said with disbelieving wonder. He was leaning against a workbench, and he’d only apologized once when he’d shifted the heavy steel table by mistake. Tony was very proud. “And there are people living in space right now! Do they have suits like this too?”

“Some of them have something like it, but I didn’t design them,” Tony’s hands did not slow down as he thought about the Crimson Dynamo, no they did not. “NASA’s already come to me with contract offers for a specialized version for their astronauts. Actually, lots of people have made offers for their own armor, but at this time space agencies are the only potential clients I’m even remotely interested in. I’ve cut a deal with NASA saying that in four or five years’ time, when the current armour iterations are obsolete, I’ll assemble a set intended for exiting the atmosphere and extended space exposure The initial costs will be phenomenal unfortunately, these suits are millions of dollars apiece.”

“ _Millions?!_ ”

“Eyup. But that one-time purchase should last them at least a decade, probably two and possibly three if I continue repair and upgrade them over time. Still very expensive, but way the hell cheaper and less finicky than a rocket.”

Steve frowned a bit, toying with a bit of circuit board and wire. “Can’t you teach some of their engineers how to do repairs? It’ll mean less work for you and less in consultation and repair fees for them.”

Tony blew out a loud breath. “I could. I’d prefer to keep the number of people with that kind of know-how down to a minimum, however. Lessens the chance of people trying to reverse-engineer the armour - or at least enough of it to adapt to other armour models.”

“I... wish I could say that’s kind of a paranoid thing to think, but I read your files about the Iron Monger.” Steve set the board and wire aside. “What about-”

Whatever Steve had been about to suggest was lost under Jocasta’s voice. “Gentlemen, Mrs. Rhodes and Mr. Stark would like to see you in the first floor den.”

Tony blinked and glanced up at the ceiling, a habit he’d picked up from Steve. “Did they say why?”

“They did not, but I believe it has to do with their current negotiations with the Army and government.”

Steve perked up, visibly trying to repress his hopeful expression. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I am unable to determine at this time, sir. Would you like me to inquire?”

“Don’t bother, Joss,” Tony shot Steve what was hopefully a reassuring smile. “We’ll just go down and see for ourselves. Ready, Steve?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve stammered. He stood up, pushing the workbench back further, and he must have been really nervous, because he didn’t apologize for it again.

“Steve,” Tony caught his friend’s wrist as he drew close and looked intently into his eyes, wanting Steve to see Tony’s own conviction, “it’s gonna be alright, ‘kay? I promise, if I have to become a politician and work my way up to Secretary of Defense, we’ll fix this. Got it?”

Huh. He had no idea Steve’s ears could turn such a charming shade of red. “Thank you, Tony. Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

They trooped down the three flights of stairs (“Why didn’t we install elevators?” “That’s lazy, Tony.” “So?”) and hurried over to the den. As promised, Howard and Roberta were waiting for them, talking quietly to one another. Their conversation broke off when Steve and Tony entered the room, turning to the younger men with relaxed shoulders and faces.

“Afternoon, boys,” Howard greeted with a wide grin, and Tony felt his heart lift. “Steve, ready to go see the outside world?”

Tony would never, ever get tired of seeing Steve’s face light up like that, nor would he never _not_ giggle when Steve toe-bounced. “You won? I’m free to go?!”

“You are indeed,” Roberta handed over a file folder for Steve to take. “Captain Steve Rogers, retired. This has everything you need for being a legal citizen of the United States in the twenty-first century, including government-issue ID, insurance, some documents from the military and details about your current bank account. You’re not a rich man, Steve, but you’ve got a fair bit of change at your disposal.”

Still grinning, Steve flipped through the folder, eyes darting across the page. “This is great! Thank you so much, Roberta, Howard, _thank you!_ ”

“This _is_ great,” Tony agreed, rocking back on his heels, “but what about Talbot? What’s happening with him?”

And of course that would be precisely the wrong thing to say, or maybe not the wrong thing but thing that brought down the happy atmosphere of the room, because Howard’s face smoothed out in a way that meant he was trying not to look upset and Roberta was outright frowning.

“There is an ongoing investigation into the matter,” Roberta said in a way that suggested she was parroting it from someone else. “Apparently he was taking orders from SecDef, which complicates things.”

“It’s also creating some interesting friction between Mr. Secretary, General Johnson and the Joint Chiefs of Staff,” Howard added. “If I were a gambling man, I’d be taking bets on whether or not Jack Kooning quietly retires some time in the near future.”

“So that’s gonna take a few years to sort out,” Tony sighed. “What about SHIELD? Hear anything about them?”

Howard and Roberta exchanged a look and shrugged. “You’ll likely hear about that before we do,” Howard admitted. “But enough about that, there’s nothing we can do any further there. So, Steve, where would you like to go first?”

Finished with his reading, Steve handed the folder back to Roberta and said, “This might sound kind of odd, but... can I see the Armoury?”

Tony grinned. “A man after my own heart. You two coming?”

\- - -

When Bruce heard about Steve’s newly-won freedom, he actually ventured out of his labs to offer his congratulations and subsequently joined them to see the Armoury. Howard was going with them as well, but Roberta declined Tony’s invitation.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do to wrap this up,” Roberta explained, gesturing to her briefcase. “I’ll go some other time.”

Steve quietly wondered if she’d rather not see the place where her son and his friends transformed into the heroes who risked their lives on a near-daily basis.

So the four men took a private express elevator down to the Starks’ private garage. Steve hadn’t even been this far out of the tower, but he’d seen the garage through a screen when Tony had been showing him around the apartment’s security center. There was a difference, though, between seeing something through a monitor and actually standing in a giant underground garage that housed nearly a hundred cars and other vehicles, all of them shining like jewels under the fluorescent lights.

Howard and Tony argued good-naturedly about the benefits of a really fast car versus one that catered to comfort. Bruce appeared to be refereeing the match, so Steve took his time browsing through the collection. A dozen cars down, his eye caught on a surprisingly familiar shape.

“That’s a Citroen!” he cried in astonishment. It echoed loudly against the concrete, so the others were probably staring at him. “A Traction Avant! I drove one of these in France!”

“You did?” Tony had sidled up to him at some point and was stroking a hand over the Citroen’s curved roof. “Was it a loaner from the French army?”

Steve coughed. “You could say that.”

The younger man peered up at him curiously, and Steve gave him his best wide-eyed innocent look. “I _may_ have commandeered it without permission in order to chase down a couple of HYDRA agents.”

“Bullshit. Really?”

“Really really,” Steve was grinning like a loon and he really didn’t care all that much. “Caught ‘em, too. The car didn’t make it, though.”

“That’s a shame,” Bruce said, coming up behind them with Howard in tow. “They’re really quite nice vehicles.”

“It’s not really fair to call it a Citroen anymore,” Howard threw in, “in that I modified that sucker from the inside out when I was... twenty-four, twenty-five? I’d just inherited the company and was trying to get my mind off the stress. Remodeling old cars was a good way to do it, and that thing was a wreck when I got it. Not too bad a job if I do say so myself.”

“Not bad at all,” Steve agreed. Then Bruce handed Howard a set of keys and Tony opened the Citroen’s back door and Steve said, “Wait, what? Are we taking this one?”

“That we are, my good man,” Howard said, and apparently Tony had inherited his devil-may-care grin from his father, because that smile was eerily familiar. “That alright?”

He swallowed. “That’s - that’s great.” Steve got out of the way so that Howard could slide into the front seat.

“Shotgun,” Bruce called and got in on the passenger’s side. “Guess that means you’re in the back with Tony, Steve.”

Tony must have caught that, because he rolled down the window and said, “Come on in, I promise I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that, of course.”

Steve felt his mouth go dry. _I am in so much trouble._

\- - -

The Armoury was located in New Jersey, of all places. Steve still found it weird that he’d been all but sitting on an alien temple for most of his life.

“This is where you fabricate the armour, then?” Bruce asked from somewhere behind him, his voice echoing slightly in the underground cavern.

“That’s right,” Tony replied. “I’m thinking about updating the Tower shop’s fabrication units - the first suit was made there, but they’re kind of out of date to be producing some of the newer iterations.”

Howard was currently telling Steve in more detail about the Makluans, their history and the one who’d come to Earth in an attempt to stop more genocides. “The temple goes deeper, but most of the lower floors are dangerously unstable now, or so Tony tells me. I’m inclined to believe him.”

Steve frowned. “Is it safe to have the Armoury here, then?”

“As safe as any other location,” an unfamiliar voice responded, and Steve whipped around, instinctively shoving Howard behind him. Heart racing, he scanned the room for threats, catching sight of a figure by the door-

“Natasha!” Tony soundedpleased, which was the only reason Steve didn’t stop him from approaching the woman leaning on the Armoury’s door frame, despite his every instinct screaming to _protect._ “You’re alright! Talbot didn’t get you?”

A snort sounded from behind the red-haired woman. “D’you really think some jerk like Glenn Talbot would get the better of us?” The voice seemed to belong to the man dressed in black and purple leather who materialized beside Natasha(?). “And I’m hurt, Shellhead, completely broken hearted that you didn’t ask about me.”

“Of course you’d make it out just fine,” Tony sniped, but he was grinning and the man was smirking right back and the bubbling in his stomach was nerves and not jealousy, Steve told himself sternly. “You’re like a cockroach, you’d probably survive a nuclear holocaust.”

“Speaking of nuclear fallout,” Bruce said tightly, and Steve hadn’t noticed how tense the scientist had gotten, “mind telling us why you’re here, Agent Romanoff? And who your friend is?”

Agent. Was “Natasha” a government agent?

Natasha smiled politely. “Trust me, Dr. Banner, if we intended to bring in anyone in this room, you wouldn’t have known we were here until we were gone again.”

“It’s okay, Bruce, they helped out during the Makluan invasion, remember?” Tony shot him a reassuring smile, and Howard had moved out from behind Steve to rest a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “They’re not here for you or Steve or anyone.”

“He’s right.” The man (Barton or Romanoff?) stretched languidly, and Steve could see that he wasn’t armed too heavily - was that a quiver on his back? “Clint Barton,” he offered in Steve’s direction with a wink. “Former sniper and now special agent of SHIELD, at your service.”

“Natasha Romanoff,” the woman added, canting her head back a bit. “We’ve technically met, Captain, but I doubt you remember that.”

“You’d be correct,” Steve said shortly, but he could see that Tony and Howard were still relaxed and Bruce was getting there, so he could probably let go of some of his own tension. Wouldn’t drop his guard, though. “Has SHIELD been reinstated, then?”

“That’s right,” Agent Romanoff nodded. Barton had wandered over to one of the suits that Tony had out and was poking the breastplate. “We thought you might be interested in knowing. Also, General Fury would like to offer his thanks to all of you for your help, however inadvertent it may have been.”

“Without your lawyers meddling, Stark - both Starks, I guess,” Barton continued, still poking the suit, “SHIELD as a whole could have been out of commission for a lot longer. Years, maybe. Two months was a lot shorter than anyone would have hoped for. So thanks for that.” He poked the suit particularly hard, and yelped when the suit reached up and poked back just as hard. Barton was across the room and halfway up a wall almost faster than Steve could track. “The hell was that, Stark?!”

Tony snickered. “That’s what you get, Hawkeye.” He turned to Romanoff and said, “Thanks for the update. By the way, _was_ it Fury who sent us the stuff about Steve and what Talbot was planning?”

Romanoff shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. He didn’t tell us exactly what he was planning, but Fury makes contingency plans for his contingency plans, and from what I’ve heard, he’s the only one who has the authorization to provide you with the alternate Helicarrier blueprints.”

“You can tell him I’ve destroyed my copy of those, by the way.”

Romanoff flashed him a grin. “He’ll be happy to hear it. He won’t believe it, of course, but he’ll be happy to hear it anyway.”

“Well, I tried,” Tony shrugged. “By the way, Rhodey and Pepper will be here in a few minutes. Did you plan staying long enough to say hi?”

Steve blinked, because the two agents were suddenly _gone_ the same way that they had suddenly appeared. “Are Rhodey and Pepper not allowed to know about them or something?”

“Nah. More like they didn’t wanna have to endure Pepper’s endless questioning. She wants to join SHIELD,” Tony explained when Steve looked at him curiously.

“I can’t imagine _why_ ,” Bruce muttered sourly. Howard squeezed the bicep he was still holding. “How did they know we were here, anyway?”

“I’m pretty much convinced that Natasha knows or could know everything if she wanted to,” Tony answered. “Anyway, question: do we want to eat out or back at the Tower? I’m getting hungry.”

“We’ll let Steve decide, since this _is_ his first day to really experience New York in the twenty-first century,” Howard said. “Steve, any preferences?”

“I don’t need anything fancy,” Steve said, feeling a blush heat his face. “Honest, I’m not picky.”

“We’ve noticed.” Tony smiled at him, that sweet little smile he seemed to save just for Steve and that was _not_ helping the blood rushing to his cheeks. Or other areas. “Keep it simple, got it. How ‘bout French? Might as well keep with the theme. There’s this great little bistro Dad and I found awhile back, how does that sound?”

“Great!” Steve’s smile felt too wide for his face, like his lips were elastic bands ready to snap. “That sounds great. But, uh, are we really dressed for that?”

Everyone was just wearing what they’d put on that morning, which for Steve and Tony were slightly loose jeans and grease-stained t-shirts. Howard, of course, looked impeccable in a suit, and Bruce was wearing slacks and a polo that could blend in just about anywhere.

Howard was eyeing Steve oddly, and Steve had to fight to not swallow nervously. “I’ll have someone meet us there with some less grimy clothes for you two. Shall we meet Pepper and Rhodey outside?”

There was a general murmur of assent, so the four left the Armoury with Steve doing his absolute best not to look Howard in the eye. The man was far too observant to miss Steve’s glaringly obvious crush on his son, and Steve really wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

\- - -

The bistro was a resounding success, in Tony’s opinion. Steve and Bruce nearly ate their pantries bare, but the owners didn’t look too put out about that, especially when they saw Howard’s _very_ generous tip.

They took Steve out to Times Square and accidently started an impromptu dance party (Pepper’s fault). When they managed to escape from _that_ mess, they stopped by Duffy Square so that Steve could (gently) kick the base of the Father Duffy monument (Bucky’s fault, apparently). It was fairly late by then, so Steve decided that he’d rather see the rest of New York City in daylight and asked Howard to take them home.

It was a bit of a squeeze, fitting the four younger members of the group into the back seat, and it ended up with Pepper sort of lying on top of the three boys while Tony cheerily complained about being stuck between his bigger and bulkier friends. Rhodey told him to suck it up and purposefully squished him further, while Steve blushed and joked and tried to give Tony more room but stopped when Pepper kicked him. Howard was moaning about being caught in the front seat, and Bruce was _crying_ he was laughing so hard, and yeah. Tony called the whole thing a win.

The next morning after breakfast, Steve caught Tony’s arm and asked, “Are you busy today?”

Tony thought about it for like a femtosecond. “Just a quick investors’ meeting, but I can cut that. Did you want me to come with you today?”

Steve nodded. “If that’s alright with you? But please don’t cut your meeting for it, I can wait”

“No, seriously, Steve, you’re doing me a favour here, that stuff’s boring as hell. On the other hand, it’ll just be me today, since Dad _has_ to go to that meeting, and Pepper and Rhodey have family stuff and Bruce is working on something in his lab that he says he won’t leave for anything short of the end of the world. That alright?”

“That’s perfect-” Steve coughed a bit, “perfectly fine.” They were still in the kitchen, so it was a moment’s work for Tony to fill a cup with water and hand it to Steve. He accepted it with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Awesome. Did you have anywhere in mind you’d like to see, or did you just want to wander around?”

The blond hesitated. “I want to see Brooklyn,” he said softly, like it hurt to say out loud. “I know it’s going to be very, very different from what I remember, but - I want to see how it’s changed.”

That might not have been the best decision for Steve’s mental health, but Tony was hardly one to talk about good decisions. “Alright. I’ll call Dad’s driver, since he won’t be needing her today, she’ll drop us off where ever you want”

“Maybe at the Bridge? If you don’t mind walking.”

“Not at all. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed and call Angie, and we can head on out.”

The plan hit a snag in the lobby, however, in the form of an old friend.

“Tony!”

Tony blinked. The voice came from a man standing by the Help desk, dressed sharply in a navy blue suit. He could have easily fit in with one of SE’s younger investors, but Tony knew he wasn’t one of them because his voice was so achingly _familiar_. “Ty? Is that you?”

Tall, blond and fit, Steve and Tiberius Stone could have passed for brothers. Ty had grown out his hair down around his ears and was sporting a short goatee, but Tony could still see the brash teenager whom Tony had admired so greatly when they were younger.

“Of course it’s me,” Tiberius teased as he approached. “Who else would it be?”

A polite tap on his shoulder suddenly reminded Tony who he was with and why they were there, but there was no judgment in Steve’s eyes. “I’ve got my tablet with me, I’ll map out a route for us to follow,” he said, nodding at a set of plush chairs just off to the side.

Tony smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Steve, I haven’t seen Ty in forever. Do you mind if I talk with him for a few minutes?”

“Take your time,” Steve smiled, and Tony felt guilty at holding off Steve’s re-introduction to New York. He vowed not to take _too_ long with Ty; they could catch up later.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town,” Tony said once Steve had settled in a chair. “You should have emailed me or something.”

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” Ty admitted with an easy grin, shrugging slightly. “Who’s your friend?”

“That’s Steve. He’s been... gone for a while. Soldier, just retired.”

“Really? Kind of young to be retiring already.”

“He’s older than he looks.” Tony snorted at his own gross understatement and waved it off when Ty gave him a look. “I promised I’d go with him while he gets reoriented to the city again, so I’m actually gonna have to cut this short.” He glanced back at Steve and smiled. Steve smiled back, but he seemed a little distracted by something over Tony’s shoulder. A pretty girl, maybe. “We can meet up later, though, right?”

“Of course!” Ty replied. “I mean, I’ve been kind of looking forward to this, but I should have checked with you earlier.”

Tony frowned and looked back at his old friend, but Ty didn’t look disappointed, still wore that slightly mischievous grin he’d perfected as a child.

“Excuse me.” Tony started, not having heard Steve approach. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I just thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Steve,” he said, offering a hand to the other blond. “Sorry to muck up your plans like this.”

“Not at all.” Ty’s free hand came up to rest on Tony’s shoulder as he and Steve shook. “Are you free tomorrow, Tony? We could do lunch.” His thumb bunched up the fabric of Tony’s shirt as it brushed up against his collarbone.

“Sounds good! Twelve-thirty alright with you?”

“Better make it one-ish, I’ve got a morning meeting with my father’s Board of Directors. I’ll email you with more details, there’s this restaurant a friend told me about that I’ve been meaning to try.”

“Alright.” Tiberius was studying Tony’s face, probably trying to see the boy he’d known from years ago. Tony knew he was doing his own fair share of staring (seriously, a goatee?). It was a little unnerving, but this was his friend. He’d let it slide.

“Tony, is that Angie over there?” Steve asked, indicating a woman standing by the door.

Tony cursed roundly. “That it is, and she’ll kill us if we keep her waiting any longer. It was nice seeing you, Ty, can’t wait to talk tomorrow, gotta go!” He snatched up Steve’s wrist and pulled him along as he ran for the doors, heedless of the other man’s protests.

“No seriously, Angie might not look like it but she’s Dad’s bodyguard, too. I do not want get on her bad side, she’ll hurt me.” They stopped in front of the unimpressed-looking petite Mexican woman. “Sorry, Angelina, got caught with an old friend.”

Angie _hmph_ ed. “You’re lucky your father likes you,” she sniffed, but she smiled at Steve so she couldn’t have been too upset. “Of course, bring along a few more young men like this and I’ll forgive you,” she added slyly, which made Steve’s ears turn bright red again.

Considering how warm the spring had been towards the end, the weather was quite cool out, hovering just below the mid-twenties. He mentioned this to Steve as Angie herded them out the doors and laughed when Steve gave him a horrified look. “Celsius,” Tony clarified, “Metric is the international industry standard, now, so I tend to default to it.”

Steve looked absurdly relieved, and Tony realized with a pang that the man had good reason not to like cold weather. He didn’t say anything about it, though, not wanting to risk making things awkward or worse. Instead he thanked Angie as she held open the back seat door of the nondescript sedan and climbed in after Steve.

“So did you get our route picked out?” Tony asked once they were moving.

“I was mostly thinking of head up towards the War Memorial and wandering around from there. Is that alright with you?”

“Sounds good.”

They wound up getting horribly lost around Middagh Street and had to rely on Tony’s phone to get somewhere one of them recognized. After that they consulted a combination of the phone and Steve’s tablet for maps, meandering in a long, circuitous route that took them by cathedrals and offices and shops and a Spider-Man swinging between the buildings

(“He’s pretty far out,” Tony commented as they waved at the black-and-red form, “the Spider Brigade usually hangs out in Queens. Wonder who he’s looking for?”

“Spider Brigade?”

“There are like eight Spider-people wandering around these days, I can’t keep count anymore.”)

Several hours later found them back up by Bridge Park, so they decided to double back to an [Italian cafe/restaurant](http://www.caffebuongusto.net/menu.aspx) they’d found earlier that day to grab a bite.

“Good day so far?” Tony asked. They were tucked into a cozy corner, sheltered from the rest of the shop as they ate their paninis.

“It’s... well, it’s a helluva thing to see how Brooklyn’s grown since I was here last,” Steve confessed, “but I’m glad I’ve seen it, even only a small part of it.” He looked... not lost. Tony knew what ‘lost’ looked like on Steve’s face, and that wasn’t it. Melancholy, maybe.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like for you,” Tony admitted, “but I want you to know that I’m here for you, for whatever you need. Not just me either, but everyone, and I know Dad said something about the therapist thing, we can arrange something for you if you think you need it.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve said warmly, “I’ll think about it.”

They finished their meals in silence, savoring the warm focaccia and sipping their sodas. Just as Tony was trying to decide whether or not to order dessert, he felt a warm hand cover his own on the top of the table.

Tony blinked. Stared at the hand, following the attached arm up to Steve’s face - Steve’s face, on which he was wearing a look something between dogged and anxious.

“Tony,” Steve said, thumb softly stroking Tony’s skin and making it tingle, “I really appreciate everything you done for me. And... I have a bit of a confession to make.”

He sighed. “A while ago, you told me that you were attracted to men as well as women. The thing is, well, so am I.” Tony’s heartbeat sped up just a bit, but he didn’t interrupt. “I wanted to tell you at the time, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, and I’m sorry because that wasn’t fair to you after you shared something so important about yourself with me.”

Steve wasn’t obligated to share anything about himself ever, and Tony tried to say that but Steve hushed him and squeezed his hand. “I’m telling you now because I realized recently that I like you, Tony. Like, _like_ like you.”

“That’s a lot of likes,” Tony joked weakly, and Steve’s smile sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“To head off your next question, I know it’s not just a lack of exposure to anyone else. Trust me, I’ve done a lot of self-analyzing in the last few days.” Steve chuckled. “I think that you’d say I have a type: pretty brunets too smart and brave for their own good.”

“I feel like I should take offense to that for some reason.” Tony moved the hand under Steve’s, turning and lacing their fingers together.

Steve smiled down at their entwined hands. He was blushing, but so was Tony so it was all good. “If you aren’t interested, that’s fine. Please, _please_ don’t humour me over this. I’d like to... court you, do they say that anymore? It’s what I’d like to do, but only if _you_ want it too.”

Honesty deserved honesty, so Tony said, “I’ve never really thought about it. But now that I _am_ thinking about it, I can’t say that I’d really mind all that much.” He smirked at a sudden thought. “We can tell everyone that you’re my kept man.”

“Tony, no!” Steve protested, but he was laughing and his fingers were tangled with Tony’s and okay, this was actually really nice.

“Darn, here I was hoping you wouldn’t get that reference.” Tony was grinning so hard his cheeks were starting to ache, but he didn’t mind. “So, wanna get dessert? Apparently the tiramisu here is fantastic.”

Steve hadn’t stopped smiling, but now he seemed to _shine_. “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: everything I know about Ty Stone is second hand, so my characterization of him may not be the best. On the other hand, this is Armoured Adventures, where most people aren't the kind of assholes they are in their 616 counterpart. Kind of like the inverse of the Ultimates universe.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dates and meetings and faces, oh my.

The pencil curved and dipped across the page, drawing thick lines and filling shadows as it went. Steve’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he tried to translate the picture in his head onto the thick paper. It was time-consuming, but the shape was slowly taking form in monochrome graphite strokes.

The peculiar acoustics of the Armoury meant that Steve heard whoever was coming in long before he ever saw them, but Steve could recognize that particular tread by now.

“Thought I might find you here,” Rhodey said, flinging himself into a chair across the table. He was sweating profusely, unsurprisingly; outside the coolness of the underground temple, the air was sweltering with the warmth of a late-season heat wave. “So apparently we need to talk.”

This was something Steve had been waiting for. “Tony told you?” he asked, just to confirm.

“He let it slip last mission,” Rhodey said. “I just haven’t had a chance to talk with you about it ‘til now.”

‘Last mission,’ had been two days ago. Steve had to wonder what kind of threats the younger man had come up with in the duration.

Rhodey was studying him with a critical eye. “This is usually where I’d say, ‘hurt him and I’ll fuck you up,’ but you’re gonna hurt each other eventually ‘cause it ain’t a real relationship if you don’t. On the other hand, physically harm him outside of sparring and I’ll be gunning for you. I will be wearing the suit. And there is an excellent chance that I’ll bring along Rescue, the Hulk and possibly Mr. Stark, who _also_ knows how to pilot the suits.”

Steve nodded. “That’s reasonable.”

“Of course, same thing goes for Tony,” Rhodey tilted his head back, as if he couldn’t see Steve’s incredulous expression. “Pep’s giving Tony the shovel talk for you, so he may be slightly traumatized afterword. Good excuse for cuddling him once he’s back.”

Steve snorted. “You seem to think I need one,” he said even as his ears reddened.

Rhodey grinned right back at him. “I’m just saying a little bit of PDA is a-okay, big guy. A little bit, though, not a whole lot. I’ve already been down the ‘macking-on-Tony’ road, don’t need to watch other people do the same. Pepper was painful enough.”

He nodded along politely until Rhodey’s words sank in. “Wait, you and Tony were a couple?”

Rhodey snorted. “If you can call it that. We were fourteen and just figuring out this whole ‘sexuality’ thing and thought dating each other would be the way to do it. We hardly even held hands. I think I kissed his cheek once. After like a week we called it quits ‘cause it was just weird.” He chuckled and added, “I think Mom was more disappointed that we were, she thought we were cute together.”

“I can see where she was coming from.” It was a good thing Steve had practiced his innocent smile as a child, because he felt he’d be using it a lot, especially in the face of Rhodey’s scowl. “Tony and Pepper were an item too, then?”

“For like all of five minutes. Then they both realized that they’d get on each other’s nerves way too much at close quarters and decided against it.” He snagged a keyboard - attached to a holographic projector, apparently, as Tony’s standard bluish display flickered to life. From what Steve could see from behind, he was tracking Iron Man and Rescue as they flew back from a search-and-destroy mission in the Transian Mountains. That was why Steve was in the Armoury, actually, waiting for Tony to get back. He’d kind of been hoping for a little solitude during the wait, but he knew he was far from the only one worried about their friends.

On the other hand, now that Rhodey was here, he could try asking about something that had been bothering him since that first day out. Steve tapped his pencil against the page, trying to think of a way to broach the subject that was staring up at him.

Finally he just decided to go the direct route and asked, “Rhodey, do you know a guy by the name of Tiberius Stone?”

Evidently he did, because Rhodey immediately swept the display to the side with a dark expression. “I do indeed. Why?”

“Because he was waiting in the lobby of Stark Tower when Tony and I went to Brooklyn the day after we met with your mum and Howard.”

Rhodey’s lips thinned unhappily. “One day, I will teach that jerk the meaning of _relevant details_. When I ask for _relevant details,_ I want to know shit like that.”

Steve shrugged. “If you’re talking about Tony, he may have forgotten. That was, uh, when I first asked for his permission to court him.”

That startled a snicker out of Rhodey. “Nice, man. But yes, I know Tiberius. His dad used to work for Stark International when we were kids, back when there _was_ a Stark International. Mr. Stone eventually left and basically became a media mogul with Howard’s blessing. Mr. Stone was a great guy. Tiberius... was not.”

He sank back into his seat with a sigh and continued, “He’s a couple of years older than me and Tony, and from what I can remember, he was always sort of cruel. I don’t know why, if there was something going down at home or not; we only really saw each other at company shindigs and a couple of bring-your-kid-to-work events. I know his parents were separated, but I thought they got back together at some point. Could just be that Ty was a rotten egg. I never really liked him, but Tony thought he hung the moon. Hell if I know why.

“The thing is, Tiberius is smart. Like, really fucking smart. Tony is probably one of the few people in the _world_ who’s smarter than him, and I always sort of got the impression that he - Ty - didn’t like that. But he _did_ like the way Tony followed him around like a love-struck puppy, so the bastard strung him along, made him think that if he did just one more thing, they’d be best pals for life. Of course, that was complete bullshit.

“He had this way of talking to people, making them do things they wouldn’t do on their own. He manipulated them. He was all of ten years old and he had knowledgeable, rational adults dancing to his tunes like it was nothing. And I don’t think Tony ever realized Ty was doing the same thing to him.”

“But you did?”

“Remember, Steve, Mom’s a lawyer, and by simple association she usually wound up surrounded by other lawyers, especially since she was a black woman in charge of the prestigious Stark International legal department _and_ was Howard Stark’s personal lawyer. Nine times out of ten, her colleagues were either trying to schmooze themselves into her good graces or trying to find a scandal to take her out of the game. I was fluent in doublespeak by - wait, you haven’t read 1984 yet, never mind - anyway, I may not have been able to figure out _why_ a person was trying to manipulate me, but I usually knew when they were. I knew Tiberius was trying to jerk me around, _had_ jerked Tony around like a puppet on a string, and he _definitely_ hated me for it.”

That... was not encouraging to hear at all. “So what happened? Tony said they hadn’t seen each other in years.”

Rhodey shrugged. “I’m not one hundred percent on what went down, but when we were twelve, so Ty was fourteen or fifteen, something happened at home. Pretty sure it involved either alcohol or drugs or stolen vehicles or all of the above, but Ty got in a _lot_ of shit for it and wound up getting sent to a boarding school in Boston. Not long after that, Mr. Stone left SI, and then left the country altogether and went over to Europe to make his fortune. I assume Ty went with him.”

Steve blew out a loud breath. “This does not make me feel any better about what happened, then.”

“Why? What’d Tiberius do?”

“Honestly? At first it didn’t seem like he was doing anything at all, really. Some of what he said seemed kind of... odd, I guess, but harmless. I sort of went off to the side, but I could still hear them.” Steve closed his eyes, letting the memory of the moment wash over him. “They said hi, talked a little, but Tony and I were pretty much walking out the door at that point, so he asked Stone if they could talk some other time. Stone... didn’t really like that.”

_Didn’t really like that_ was an understatement. Steve looked down at his paper, and Tiberius Stone’s snarling face stared back up at him. When Tony had turned to look over where Steve was sitting, after mentioning that he wasn’t free at the moment, Steve had caught sight of Stone’s face as it contorted into murderous rage. His expression had immediately smoothed out not a moment later, back to cheerful acceptance, but the image of that face had been burned into Steve’s mind. It was at that point that he’d decided to insert himself into the situation.

“Stone looked mad and then acted like nothing was wrong. He was good, too, I never would have known if I hadn’t seen it. I couldn’t stay back after that, so I went over and introduced myself. He and Tony arranged to meet for lunch the next day and we left. Before that, though, he - this is going to sound strange.”

Rhodey hummed and made a ‘go on’ gesture.

“Well, Stone put his hand on Tony’s shoulder and... I don’t know. It seemed kind of intimate? Or he was trying to make it intimate. And I’ve seen snipers with less intense stares than the one he used on Tony.”

“That’s not good,” Rhodey said, still frowning. “Did they meet up the next day?”

“No, that was the day with the pink slime things.”

“Ah, yes, how could I forget? I’m still cleaning jello out of the War Machine joints. Did they reschedule?”

Steve twirled the pencil between his fingertips. “I think so. Do you think I should say something?”

“Maybe not. It could just be that we’re being paranoid.”

“Gentlemen,” Jocasta broke in, startling them both, “I suggest continuing this conversation at a later time; Iron Man and Rescue are approaching New York City.”

“Thanks Jocasta,” Rhodey and Steve said in unison. “Hey, while I’m thinking about it,” Rhodey added, “think you can run a search on Tiberius Stone’s most recent activities? Last five years, try not to hack anything _too_ complicated, and keep this info on a need-to-know basis for me and Steve only.”

“I can do that for you, Mr. Rhodes. Anything else?”

“Nah, you’re a peach, Joss.” Rhodey stood up and stretched. Steve followed suit. “Pepper and I’ll be at college starting next week, so I might not be able to help as much on the Tiberius thing, but gimme a call any time and I’ll do what I can. And you’ll always have Jocasta.”

“Thank you,” Steve said sincerely. Then he frowned. “Wait, what about Tony? Won’t he be joining you?”

Rhodey gave him an odd look. “Guess he hasn’t told you yet, but that’s his problem, not mine. You know he was at MIT, right?” Steve nodded. “Right, well, kid’s already got a Ph.D after only a year. Jerk.” Rhodey’s voice was fond, so he probably didn’t mean the ‘jerk’ thing. “He’s got some deal with the head of the Engineering department, he’ll be doing long-distance learning or something, but he’s staying in New York for the time being.”

Their conversation was cut short as the blast doors on the exit chute whooshed open so Iron Man and Rescue could fly in. They both called out a greeting, voices altered to sound like the robots they resembled.

“Hey,” Rhodey replied, “Mission went well?”

“Eyup!” Pepper chirped as her designated disassembly station removed her armour. “It’s too bad the War Machine isn’t really meant for stealthing, you’d’ve had a lot of fun.”

“There were lots of explosions,” Tony added as the black-and-blue stealth armour flew off of him. “Not enough to start an avalanche but enough to make the Latverians think twice about hoarding their weapons’ caches there for a while.”

Steve stared at his... partner. His boyfriend? He stared at his Tony as the man chattered on about their mission, about how reception in the Transian Mountains was just so fucking poor, he’d do something about it if it weren’t for the fact that he’d be helping Doom. His hair was a mess (“Helmet hair,” he’d grumbled the first time Steve had seen it and burst out laughing), his clothes were artfully rumpled and his eyes were bright with excitement.

In summary, he was damn gorgeous, and Steve couldn’t help himself.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice was confused but still happy as the ex-soldier pushed himself into the younger man’s personal space. “What’cha doing, big guy?”

Steve probably couldn’t have stopped what happened next if he’d tried. “I’m going to kiss you,” he stated unapologetically and immediately felt his ears start to burn. He could practically _hear_ Bucky say _Very suave, punk._ “If this is something you don’t want, just say it-”

“Wait, what?” Rhodey yelped at the same time Tony cried, “Oh _hell_ yes!” and surged up to close the distance between them.

The kiss was... not what Steve expected. It was fierce, and a little sloppy, and their lips just sort of slid against each other for a few moments until they centered themselves. One Tony’s arms was around his neck and Steve was sort of holding him up but even with all of that it was _magnificent._ Everything Steve could have wanted.

Tony’s body was slightly cool against his, the clean lines pressed up against the blond solid and reassuring. The contact was causing certain parts of his anatomy to stir, so it was probably a good thing Rhodey interrupted when he did.

“Okay, you two, break it up! Steve, I said a _little_ PDA, a _little_ bit! This is not a _little bit!_ ”

“Ignore him,” Pepper giggled as their friend flailed behind her. She clasped her hands together in a gesture of glee. “Please, continue as long as you’d like. In fact, I insist that you go on! I’m just gonna take a seat over there, that cool with you guys?”

Steve tucked his face into Tony’s neck to hide the blush he could feel blooming on his face. “Your dame’s a pervert, you know that?” he murmured into the pale skin he found there. Tony’s fingers slid into his hair, that was nice.

“Pepper’s a menace,” Tony agreed over the sound of Rhodey’s aggrieved moaning, “and Rhodey’s a stick-in-the-mud, but they’re not bad people. I think we’ll keep them.”

\- - -

“Hey, can I show you something?”

Rather than doing the smart thing and run screaming, Steve politely bookmarked his page (George Orwell, dear god _why_ ) and said, “Sure, what’s up?”

Tony grinned. “It’s a bit of a drive, so you’ll see when we get there.”

Steve set the book aside. “Should I be worried?” He asked teasingly as he wound an arm around Tony’s waist. Apparently he’d taken something Rhodey said about PDA to heart, because Steve never hesitated to put his hands on Tony, be it pat on the arm at breakfast or a hug from behind when Tony came back from an SE meeting or stolen kisses while they were in the shop.

_If we’re not careful, Steve really **is** going to become my kept man, _Tony mused. _That... probably shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does._

“What are you thinking?” Steve murmured into his ear. Tony smiled and tilted his head obligingly so Steve could kiss his neck.

“Nothing in particular. Shall we try out your new bike?”

The bike had been a gift from Howard, a sort of “congrats-on-surviving-the-twenty-first-century” thing that Tony wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t some kind of veiled threat. Like, do-badly-by-my-son-and-become-street-pizza or something.

But he could feel Steve grin into his neck, so he supposed he could forgive his father and his maybe-meddling. Besides, he could just rail on him about Bruce.

The elevator ride down to the garage was surprisingly tame (mostly because there were security cameras in it). Steve tossed Tony his designated helmet. “You driving?”

“Nah,” Tony tapped his pocket, where his phone and remote link to Jocasta were safely stored. “Your GPS will take us there.”

The bike was a gorgeous thing, all sleek lines and hard leather. It wasn’t the largest or flashiest model out there, but the dark blue paint job hid a customized Ducati engine whose top tested speed was nearly 300 mph. Of course, Steve wouldn’t dare to hit that kind of speed unless it was an emergency.

The bike’s GPS was built into the handlebars without being obtrusive, and had the added bonus of being able to sync up with the headphones in Steve’s helmet so that he could hear the instructions. Once said helmet was on his head, the blond swung himself onto the bike and patted the seat behind him. Tony followed suit, making sure to press in close and mold himself to Steve’s back. He doubted the resulting groan was his imagination.

They hit the streets, carefully merging into traffic. The golden light of afternoon seemed to welcome them, which oddly enough made Tony more anxious. He closed his eyes and held on tight, trying to quell his nervousness.

After a quick jaunt through the warm New York streets, they stopped in front of a set of huge wrought-iron gates. Steve flipped the visor of his helmet up and frowned slightly at Tony. “Is this the place?”

“It is.” Tony sent a message from his phone, which sent a signal that opened the gates with a tortured shriek of metal. Tony winced. “Sorry about that. The gate’s mostly for looks.”

Once inside, it was much easier to see the massive red-brick building that was Stark Mansion. Steve craned his neck, trying to see all the way up. “Hard to believe that _this_ was hiding behind a few trees,” he said neutrally.

“I’m pretty sure that was the point. Although, I have no idea if those trees were there when Granddad bought the place to clean up, so.”

They left the bike in front of the imposing front stoop and entered the mansion through the equally imposing double doors. “So this building belongs to your family, then?” Steve asked, peering at the drape-clothed furniture and shuttered windows.

“Yep. Dad moved us out after Mom died. The MSF was here for a while, but they’re gone too.”

Hand in hand, the couple traversed the main hall, Tony describing this room or that, sharing a little bit of family history. He wondered if Steve was reminded of that first night in the Tower, what with Tony showing him around yet another strange place.

“I take it you brought me here for a reason,” Steve said as they took the stairs up to the second level.

Tony grinned. He’d wondered how long it would take the old soldier’s natural curiosity to get the better of him. “What makes you say that?”

“Despite everything being shut up and put away, the whole place is clean, free of dust and dirt and whatever else builds up over time. Locks, doors and appliances have been recently replaced, and I can see the video cameras.” Steve gave him a pointed look. “If our relationship has been a ruse to catch me off my guard so you can lock me in a basement and have your wicked way with me, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

Tony burst out laughing. “Why, did it work?”

“Well, yes, but you already knew that.”

“I suppose so - hey, wait! _You_ were the one who started this whole thing!”

Steve grinned unapologetically. “You could have been using some kind of subliminal messaging thing, making me think the idea was mine all along.”

“And you call _me_ paranoid. Wait, hold up a sec.”

They stopped in front of a heavy oak door. Tony swallowed and tried to remember the speech he’d spent hours preparing, because there were many, many ways this could go wrong. “I want you to know,” he said carefully, “that what’s inside here should not be taken as a hint or a push or anything that might make you feel pressured. It’s just a thing.”

“You’re not proposing, are you?” Steve asked suspiciously.

Tony sputtered. “What is _with_ you today?!” he demanded over Steve’s snickering. “First you ask if our relationship’s a scam, _then_ you imply I might be proposing! Mixed messages, much?”

“I didn’t imply anything. I said it plainly, didn’t I?” Steve asked, still laughing. Whatever.

Tony nudged him with a hip. “Let’s just go inside.”

The room was dark, because Tony was nothing if not dramatic. Steve was squinting at the shadowed shape in the middle of the room, so Tony put a hand on his arm and told him to close his eyes for a moment. He flicked on the spotlights and -

“Oh Tony,” Steve breathed, eyes settling on the red, white and blue armour.

The new and improved Captain America uniform was made from a fabric that the Stark duo had invented some time before, but wasn’t cost effective enough to mass-produce. Tony had gotten a friend of his to update the 1940s design into something a bit more modern. She’d kept the little helmet wings, however. It would be a tighter fit than Steve’s old costume, but it would offer far more protection than the older model.

And, of course, there was the shield.

“You got it back,” the ex-soldier whispered, taking a few hesitant steps towards the sealed case with the round, painted metal shield hanging where it might have rested on Steve’s back in repose. He reached out but didn’t quite touch.

“Clint and Natasha delivered it to the Armoury while you, Dad and Bruce were at the theatre a couple weeks back.” Tony padded up quietly behind him and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. He wasn’t even irritated that his forehead barely reached Steve’s neck.

“Like I said, this isn’t me trying to pressure you into taking up the shield again,” Tony explained, his words muffled by Steve’s shirt. “I just - remember me telling you about Extremis?” He waited until he felt his boyfriend nod before continuing. “I was desperate. Until that point, I hadn’t known if I even wanted to keep being Iron Man, but once that choice was taken from me - I don’t know. I guess I just realized there was more to the whole hero thing than my own hang-ups. And okay, that’s not helping with the ‘totally no pressure’ thing, is it?”

He felt more than heard Steve’s rumbling laugh and smiled back, even if Steve couldn’t see it. “Anyway. The point is, this isn’t about forcing you into anything. This is about giving you a choice. If there comes a day when you think you should put on the stars and stripes again, this suit will be here for you. If it sits here for the rest of days, gathering dust and dirt and whatever else builds up over time,” Steve laughed a little more at that, “then good, because that means you haven’t felt like you’re needed at the front lines, and I’ll rest easier for it. But if _you_ think the world needs Captain America again, then it’s here, waiting for you.” He squeezed Steve’s waist, and the blond put his large hands over Tony’s smaller ones.

“Thank you,” Steve murmured, his voice was choked up a little. They could blame it on the dust. “This wasn’t something I wanted to think about - but thank you for giving me this choice.” He turned it Tony’s arms and buried his face in Tony’s hair.

\- - -

Some time later, time spent wrapped up in each other and breathing the same air, they realized that it was nearly dinner and decided to call in for pizza.

“I don’t understand how you get people to bring food to the strangest places,” Steve said, shaking his head before taking a bite into his slice of pepperoni and extra cheese.

“It’s all about the tips, babe,” Tony winked at him and snagged a piece of Steve’s pizza before he could smack his hand. Steve stole a piece of Tony’s bacon-mushroom in retaliation.

“You know, you never did tell me why you brought me here,” Steve said thoughtfully around a mouthful of cheesy goodness. They were sitting across from each other on the floor of what was once the kitchen, each with a box of pizza sitting before him.

“Yeah, ‘cause you kept giving mixed relationship signals.” Tony deliberately brushed their ankles together, reveling in the small touch.

“I did not,” Steve kicked the brunet gently in the knee. “So tell me. Why here? Why not show me at the Tower?”

Tony slowed his chewing to give himself an extra moment to think. He considered telling Steve about his team idea, but decided that the Captain America suit was probably enough cape-talk for the night. “Honestly? No one was using this building, and both Dad and Granddad put a lot of work into it. Remind me to show you the basements later, by the way.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about how little I’ve stayed in the Tower these past few years and how it just doesn’t feel much like _home_ anymore, and about the Armoury and how I want to expand it. It makes for a good repair shop and base of ops, but I don’t have the room to do everything I want there. So I thought that, maybe, I’d move here. Won’t take much to set up a shop, one of the sub-basements is already primed for that.”

“What about the Armoury?”

“For the time being, it’s easier for Pep and Rhodey to get to New Jersey than here, and I’m sure there will be times where it’ll be more advantageous for me to work out there. It’s just that if I want to live outside the Tower and have a big enough area set up shop, my options are limited. There’s lots of room here to live and play in, and I have other plans too, but we can talk more about that later. And, um,” _spit it out, Stark,_ “I was kind of hoping you’d want to come with me,” he said, rushing the last few words.

Steve stared at him, completely and utterly silent. Tony felt his stomach drop. “I mean you don’t have to,” he backpedaled, “you’re more than welcome to stay in the Tower or we can find you your own place if you want, or-”

Steve cut him off. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I - ah -” It would never cease to amaze him, how quickly Steve could reduce him to speechlessness. Luckily, he made an excellent recovery. “That’s dumb, you’re already living with me!”

Or maybe not.

“This is different, though,” Steve said, but he was smiling, and he was putting down his pizza down and scooting over next to Tony. “This isn’t just giving me a room out of hospitality. This is you, trying to give me a home.”

“Well, when you put it that way-” Tony smiled into Steve’s lips as they descended. Steve tasted like tomato sauce and cheese. “Is that a yes?”

“It could be.” He brushed a few more kisses along Tony’s temple, making him laugh. “I wouldn’t feel so guilty about kissing you, then.”

And didn’t _that_ give Tony a wonderful idea. “You know, there’s a room made up down the hall,” he said, giving Steve what he hoped were bedroom eyes. “We could see where all this kissing takes us.”

And of course that was the moment Steve pulled back with a frown, and Tony cursed himself roundly. “Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I know you didn’t really want this at first.”

Oh, was that it? “No,” Tony agreed, “I didn’t want this at first. Mostly because I didn’t realize there was anything to want.” He caught Steve’s chin as the other man turned away. “But I definitely want this now,” he added, staring Steve right in the eye so there was no misunderstanding. “And you know what? Maybe, if we go to that room, we just take a nap and sleep there for the night. Or maybe we do some heavy petting, or _maybe_ we even make it to home base. D’you get that reference?”

Steve laughed and clasped Tony’s hand in his own. “Yes, I got it,” he said drily, pressing a kiss into the back of Tony’s hand.

“Well, good.” Was it getting warmer? “So, what do you say?”

“I say,” the blond said slowly, “that we should finish our pizza and put the bike away, because we may or may not have a full night ahead of us.”

Tony grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

\- - -

The restaurant was a quiet affair, cloistered and closed in and nothing like the cafe he and Steve had visited. Tony sipped at his coffee as Tiberius raved on about his brilliant invention, the ultimate combination of entertainment, creativity and technology.

“It’s still a few years from mass production, but I’ve got three working prototypes and potential investors willing to shell out a few bucks for some engineers to help cut down the physical size of the Dreamvision so it’s easier for people to fit into their homes.”

“That’s great, Ty!” Tony enthused, “I know there are some fairly primitive VRs out there, but it sounds like Dreamvision is in a class of its own. I’m sure it’ll be a hit.”

“No doubt,” Ty smirked, “but that’s not what I _really_ wanted to talk to you about.”

The table they sat at was set off by itself in an empty dining room, and it seemed eerily quiet outside of Tiberius’ boisterous explanations. Their meals had been long since cleared away, and Tony’s coffee was starting to go cold.

“See, Tony, when I was working marrying the Dreamvision’s code to the physical unit, I discovered something,” Ty’s eyes were alight with something akin to unholy glee. He licked his lips and said, “I discovered how to not only download a person’s mind into the machine, I found out how to join two minds _together_.” He linked the fingers on both his hands together. He was probably trying to demonstrate the joining of two minds, but all Tony could think of was the way he had laced his fingers with Steve’s, and just how good it had felt.

There would be time for those kinds of thoughts later. For the moment… “I’m not sure that’s a good thing, Ty,” the younger man said cautiously. “You and I are engineers, not neurologists or psychologists. Creating an immersive virtual world is one thing; messing with peoples brains is another basket of kittens entirely. I don’t think this is an avenue you should keep pursuing.

Tiberius’ mouth twisted downwards. “But think about the _possibilities,_ ” he said beseechingly. “Imagine if people like you and I could combine our thoughts, our _intellect_. We could be unstoppable!”

The surge of uneasiness he felt took Tony by surprise. _This is Tiberius,_ he reminded himself, _the guy who taught you how to hack computers, who’d help you sneak off from the bodyguards to go have some fun._ _Ty, who used to let you hang out with him, even when you were just a bratty kid. Cut him some slack, he’s hardly a villain. Or Whitney._

Finally Tony said, “I really don’t think you should go through with this. I think it’s a bad idea, because neither you or I have the background to be able to safely carry out the kinds of tests a – an artificial mind-meld would need.”

Disappointment was not a good look on his friend. “Fine,” he sighed and stood up. Tony followed suit. “I guess that’s your prerogative. Freedom of opinion, I suppose. I trust you won’t judge me for my own thoughts?”

The unpleasant curl in Tony’s stomach returned. “Of course not,” he agreed reluctantly. “No hard feelings?”

A sunny smile broke out over Ty’s face. “None at all,” he said. “Just one thing.”

Tony eyed him suspiciously, but all Tiberius did was open his arms and ask, “Can I have a hug?”

“Jeez, is that it?” Tony snorted, but obligingly leaned into Ty’s embrace. The blond man’s arms were strong and steady around Tony’s shoulders, and he squawked embarrassingly when Ty squeezed.

He pulled away with a laugh. “Okay, okay. Better let you get back to your soldier, yeah?”

Tony’s cheeks flared red. “How did you-“

“Oh, come _on,_ short stuff,” Ty said teasingly. “Did you two think you were subtle? Anyway, I gotta go, board meetings and stuff. You know how it is. We’ll talk later, alright?”

“Cool. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I’m moving back into Stark Mansion. Swing by if you have the time, I’ll show you around.”

Tiberius smiled. “I’ll do that.”

\- - -

The end of September brought a chilly wind down from the north, but Steve didn’t mind. The air was still warm enough that it was more pleasurable than a nuisance as he jogged.

Stark Mansion sported a footpath just within the natural foliage fence that lined the actual walls around the perimeter of the grounds. It was excellent for Steve’s morning exercise. He’d been using the Tower gym up ‘til that point, but there was something invigorating about breathing fresh air. Now that he and Tony were moving in, it was good to memorize the lay of the land, to get an idea of where everything was and what work still needed to be done where.

Smiling, Steve slipped in the side door he’d found the day after their first sleep-over, one that led right to the kitchen. He knew it was in all likelihood an old servant’s door, but he chose not to think about that.

Surprisingly, Tony was already sitting at the table, poking away at a tablet. “I made coffee,” he said, pointing at the carafe that assumedly held said coffee, “but the fridge is pretty much bare. We’re gonna have to stock up soon. And move our stuff from the Tower into our rooms.”

They’d each taken their own bedrooms on the second floor, because they agreed it was good to have a space they could each call their own if they needed to cool off, and they _were_ trying to take things slow. Not necessarily succeeding at times, but it was the thought that counted.

“I’m hungry now, so I think I’m just gonna run to the deli around the corner and grab a couple of sandwiches rather than doing groceries. That okay with you?”

Tony wiggled his fingers at him, which was apparently genius-speak for ‘I didn’t necessarily hear you but I agree nonetheless.” Howard and Bruce made the exact same gesture at times. Steve huffed out a little laugh. “Alright, then. See you when I get back.”

He didn’t bother changing out of his jogging clothes (t-shirt and sweatpants), just snagged his wallet  and the reusable cloth bag he’d picked up somewhere off the kitchen counter. Humming a nameless tune, he pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple and exited the way he came.

Later, Steve would think about how unobservant he’d been, not noticing the silver car that had trailed along behind him to the deli. Maybe, if he’d _paid attention,_ he wouldn’t have been too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiberius makes his move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some potentially triggering material. Very little of it is specifically stated, and it can all sort of be contained under the heading of 'Tiberius, you slimy git.' See end notes for more details.
> 
> I _was_ going to break this up into two chapters, and then I decided not to. Let me know if y'all would rather not have to read a giant wall of text.

Tony frowned when he heard the front doors bang shut. With Pepper and Rhodey back in school, his dad at Stark Enterprises and Bruce unofficially working for the same, there weren’t many people who would just walk in like that could make it past the security system. It was probably just Steve, but Tony primed Extremis to send for the armour just in case.

“Hey Tony!”

Or maybe Tiberius had decided to swing by for a visit. That could be it too. Toy relaxed and said, “Hey Ty,” barely looking up from the tablet. “Finally decided to come check out my new digs?”

“As if I wouldn’t.” Ty looked like the epitome of business casual in his grey suit jacket, wine red button-down and barely-loose slacks. He leaned against the counter with his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like he ruled it. “But I’m not just here on pleasure, unfortunately.”

“Oh?” Now Tony _did_ look up, away from where he was trying to sort out how to make the perimeter and house security systems sync up with Jocasta. It was proving to be a bit of a mess in the code, but Tony was confident he could solve it. “Ah, don’t tell me: more on your virtual-reality pods? I’m telling you, Ty, it’s too dangerous. Digitally connecting two minds together isn’t a good idea, it’s too dangerous. And this coming from me, the guy who flies around in a high-tech suit of armour fighting bad guys.” The Controller had proven that much.

“That’s why you should help me out!” Tiberius wasn’t whining, but it was a close thing. “Help me make it so that it’s not so dangerous. Just think: if we could join two minds together, there would be no lies between them, no barriers. Think of what they could _achieve_ together!”

“Yeah, but even if you _could_ iron out the problem with connecting the two, in all likelihood one mind will dominate over the other, possibly to the point of completely erasing the other person’s sense of self. There wouldn’t _be_ a second person, just an extension of the first.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Now Tony was frowning. “It _is_ a bad thing, Ty. Look, I’m sorry but I’m not interested. Maybe try talking to Dr. Richards? This seems kind of like his thing-”

_PAINpain_ painpain _ohgodwhatisgoingon-_

On some level, Tony was aware of the tablet falling from his senseless fingers, the way his body dropped out of the chair and onto the floor. On some level he was aware of the fact that Extremis’ connections were shutting down one by one in rapid succession, but all he could really process was _pain_ and _why._

A pair of legs appeared in Tony’s field of vision. He followed them to where Tiberius was smirking down at him, holding what looked like a remote in one hand. “ _Why,_ ” he gasped hoarsely, “ _Ty-”_

“That’s too bad, Tony,” he said nonchalantly, as if there had never been a break in the conversation, as if Tony wasn’t writhing on the floor. “I really would have liked to have you in on this.”

Tony felt the tip of a needle slide effortlessly into his carotid artery. “Maybe we can work something out,” Ty said with a panic grin as he depressed the plunger.

He tried to do something, _anything,_ but Extremis _wasn’t there_ and it was so dark-

\- - -

“Tony? I’m home!” Grinning, Steve shut the stupidly overlarge door closed behind him. He’d opted to come in the front doors since he’d taken the main path up to the mansion, but that also meant he was a fair distance away from the kitchen.

When there was no answer, Steve assumed that Tony hadn’t heard him. Just in case, Steve peeked into the so-called closet currently housing the basic Iron Man suit as he walked past. Maybe he’d been called out on a mission.

Nope, still a suit of armour in the room that was nearly the size of Steve and Bucky’s old apartment.

“Tony?” he called out, frowning a little as he entered an empty kitchen. “Tony, are you here?”

Silence. Steve tossed the bag of food into the fridge and picked up the apparently-abandoned tablet. Maybe Tony had wandered off in search of some part he thought he needed. It had happened before.

He swiped a finger across the security pad on the back and blinked at the page of words that popped up. It looked like gobbledygook to him, but Tony had said it was computer coding and explained that languages like it were what operated computers nowadays.

Setting the tablet aside, careful not to touch anything on the screen, he picked up Tony’s phone instead, which had been left on the counter near where Steve usually left his wallet. That was much stranger; Tony hardly went anywhere without his phone. Now Steve was getting nervous.

He hit the call button twice and held the phone up to his ear. “Hey Jocasta, it’s Steve. Any chance you can tell me where Tony is right now? Or at least what he was doing on his tablet before he left it here?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jocasta's voice always seemed clearer on Tony’s phone than any other StarkPhone. He wondered why. “Sir was attempting to insert me into the Mansion security systems, and my presence on the tablet was causing difficulties. As well, his phone is quite obviously on your person, and he has not entered either the Armoury or any part of the Tower apartments equipped with my sensors. Shall I pull up sir’s Stark Enterprises schedule for the month?”

“Please.” Steve switched to speakerphone and set it on the counter, waiting for Jocasta to project the agenda. She could just as easily pull it up on the phone, but Steve preferred the projection to reading off the little screen.

The air above the phone finally lit up with blue and white lines. Steve chewed his lower lip as he scanned through the dates.

“September 27th, investors’ meeting at 10 A.M., scheduled for two hours” he read aloud. “And it’s... 10:26 right now.” Something in him relaxed slightly. Tony was pretty good about Stark Enterprises business, although he really disliked the investors meetings for some reason. Howard had probably called and reminded him to show up on pain of pain, likely just minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, and Tony had forgotten his phone in the ensuing rush. He’d doubtlessly be regretting that now.

Mystery solved, Steve fetched his own sandwich out of the fridge again and made for the room down the hall. They never _did_ get around to cleaning it up after their first night in the mansion...

\- - -

The restaurant was a quiet affair, cloistered and closed in and nothing like the cafe he and Steve had visited. Tony sipped at his coffee as Tiberius raved on about his brilliant invention, the ultimate combination of entertainment, creativity and technology.

“It’s still a few years from mass production, but I’ve got three working prototypes and potential investors willing to shell out a few bucks for some engineers to help cut down the physical size of the Dreamvision so it’s easier for people to fit into their homes.”

“That’s great, Ty!” Tony enthused, “I know there are some fairly primitive VRs out there, but it sounds like Dreamvision is in a class of its own. I’m sure it’ll be a hit.”

“No doubt,” Ty smirked, “but that’s not what I _really_ wanted to talk to you about.”

The table they sat at was set off by itself in an empty dining room, and it seemed eerily quiet outside of Tiberius’ boisterous explanations. Their meals had been long since cleared away, and Tony’s coffee was starting to go cold.

“See, Tony, when I was working at marrying the Dreamvision’s code to the physical unit, I discovered something,” Ty’s eyes were alight with something akin to unholy glee. He licked his lips and said, “I discovered how to not only download a person’s mind into the machine, I found out how to join two minds _together_.” He linked the fingers on both his hands together. He was probably trying to demonstrate the joining of two minds, but all Tony could think of was the way he had laced his fingers with Steve’s, and just how good it had felt.

Ty’s face twitched oddly. “But I can see that this is boring you. Why don’t I just show you?”

_Wait,_ Tony thought, _this isn’t how it goes._ His mouth said, “Sounds good, Tiberius. Your place?”

The blond man’s smile was positively feral. “I think that’s a good idea.”

\- - -

1:14 P.M., the clock said when Steve next looked at it. The mansion seemed quiet and empty without Tony thumping around, trying to fix or improve something or other, but he wouldn’t be _that_ guy, the one who wouldn’t let his... partner out of sight. Tony probably went up the labs and was _geeking out_ with Bruce, and without his phone he probably wouldn’t remember to call or text anyone, let alone Steve.

Still. It would be nice if Tony had remembered.

The phone buzzed in Steve’s pocket, then, and he had to stifle a grin. _Speak of the devil._

On the roof of the mansion, Steve had to cup a hand around the phone to keep the wind from drowning out the speaker. “Tony’s phone.”

“Afternoon Steve, it’s Howard,” Steve’s gut wriggled oddly at his voice with something like nervousness or anticipation. He kept waiting for Howard to give him the ‘you’re not good enough for my child’ speech, but so far, nothing. “I just wanted to remind Tony that while he may not enjoy investors meetings all that much, he’s not supposed to skip out on them without a good reason.”

The wriggling solidified into a ball of ice. “What?”

“Sorry, is the reception bad on your end? I said-”

“I heard you,” Steve’s heart was racing, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “I thought Tony was _at_ the meeting; he wasn’t here when I got back from buying breakfast.”

The elder Stark was silent when Steve paused for a breath, so he plowed on. “His phone was on the counter and his tablet on the table, like he just left it there. The suit’s still here and there wasn’t any signs of struggle, so I’d assumed he’d just forgotten both of them when he remembered the meeting.”

“...oh, god,” Howard’s voice sounded sick and shaky, but immediately firmed up as he said, “Connect Tony’s phone to the security center - has he shown you how to do that?”

“No sir,” Steve replied, “but I can probably figure it out. If you can walk me through it.”

He was already inside and hauling ass for the first floor before Howard’s reply came through. “I’ll do that, and I’m already on my way over. I’m grabbing Bruce on my way out and am messaging James and Pepper as we speak.”

“We’ll find him,” Steve said, absolutely believing it. He had no clue how to make it happen, but he believed it. He had to.

\- - -

“Isn’t it beautiful, Tony?” Ty’s voice bordered on something like reverence as he stroked a hand over the chrome-and-glass pod.

“Sure, Ty.” It looked a bit like a coffin to Tony, and the whole place was creeping him out more and more by the minute.

“So? Ask me how I did it, Tone.” The manic voice was back, the one that made sweat run down Tony’s neck. He couldn’t do anything about it, though. Couldn’t do anything, really, couldn’t move or think, but at least he could speak.

“I really don’t care anymore, Tiberius,” Ty scowled, whether at the name or the fact that he spoke out of turn, but Tony couldn’t stop himself. “Whatever you’ve done, Ty, it’s _wrong_. This can only end badly. You need to _stop,_ Ty, while you still can.”

The other inventor blinked, as if Tony had provided him with a logic puzzle that had no apparent. “Stop? Why would I want to do that? After all,” and now he was walking forward, into Tony’s personal space, sliding their bodies together and resting his arms on Tony’s stiff shoulders, “I’ll have your smarts, your brilliance.”

He pushed his face in close, close enough for their lips to brush. “Your love, your devotion. Why on _earth_ would I want to give that up?”

“Because,” Tony said lowly, “this isn’t real, and I. Don’t. Want. You. And if force my consciousness down, all you’ll have is a mindless husk.”

“Ah, but I’ll still have your intelligence,” Ty breathed. “And that’s more than enough compensation for me.

\- - -

_Fifteen minutes,_ Steve thought as they watched the recordings for a third time. _It took me twenty minutes to get to the deli and back. It took them ten to kidnap Tony from right under our noses._

The scene unfolded the same way it had the first two times: just minutes after Steve had left, a stretch limo pulled up to the gates. Stone stuck his head out the window and gave his name to the near-invisible security bot. Voice and appearance confirmed, the gates shrieked open and the limo pulled up to the front doors. Tiberius got out, entered through the front doors, and then the video switched to the surveillance pulled from the kitchen.

Tony sat at the kitchen table, tapping away at his tablet. Tiberius approached from the main hall, greeting getting little of Tony’s attention. When Tony did look, barely a second’s worth of a glance, Stone pasted on a relaxed smile before breaking into a scowl once Tony’s eyes were off him. The smile was back once Ty started talking again, however.

Tony spoke. Something about joining minds and dream visions? No, singular ‘vision.’

“He’s talking like it’s a product of some kind,” Howard mused.

“A dangerous one,” Bruce added, cupping a hand over his mouth.

On the screen, Stone pulled what looked like a small remote and hit a button. Tony collapsed on the ground with a cry of pain. Stone crouched down next to him and said something unheard by the security cameras before injecting Tony with something that immediately knocked him out.

Rhodey crossed his arms and glowered at the screen. It was a particularly intimidating pose. “So Tiberius knew about Extremis. I mean, that’s what his little gadget did, right? Disable Extremis. Else Tony would sent us _something,_ because I know he can both call and text with his brain. So. How did he find out?”

“Not many options,” Pepper replied as two strange men came in through the kitchen door and hauled Tony out. Stone followed them, smirking all the way. “There’s us, but unless one of you guys mentioned it - yeah, I didn’t think so,” she said as the rest of the room fixed steely looks on her. “Then there’s SHIELD, but not many of their agents knew the details of the Extremis project, and there were even less who knew that Tony had taken the diluted form of it.”

“On the other hand,” Bruce broke in, “who would have had access to all of SHIELD’s files, even the stuff that doesn’t legally exist?”

“Talbot,” Steve finished, fingers digging into his biceps. He watch impassively as the view switched again, as Tiberius climbed into the back seat of the limo and Tony was bound hand and foot and tossed in the trunk. “Is Stone working for him, do you think?”

“Could be, but I don’t recall his name coming up in any of the documents we received,” Howard said. He’d already written down the license plate of the limo the first time they watched it drive away from the mansion, but it had turned up nothing. “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t there, or that it an off-the-books kind of deal. We won’t know until we look further.”

“Jocasta, have we got a location?” Pepper asked the tablet propped up against the television monitor.

“I have narrowed it down to several possibilities and I believe I can further isolate a possible location that sir might have been taken to,” Jocasta answered promptly. “Five minutes.”

“I’m going to try hacking into Stone Media’s private servers, see if I can find something under the name ‘Dreamvision,’” Bruce said suddenly, whipping over to a laptop.

“I’ll call Gerard, see if he has any idea what Dreamvision might be,” Howard put in.

That left the remainder of Team Iron Man and Steve. Pepper and Rhodey looked at each other and shrugged. “I’ll try the FBI database, they might be investigating Tiberius on the sly if he’s up to something shady,” the redhead announced and took to her own laptop.

“I’ll get the suits ready,” Rhodey said, and pushed past Steve with what was probably supposed to be a reassuring shoulder bump. It didn’t really succeed.

Standing in the middle of the security center, a relic amongst the best this day and age had to offer, Steve made a decision as well and followed Rhodey out the door.

\- - -

Tony himself could barely remember the groundbreaking ceremony that preceded the two years spent building Stark Tower, but it seemed that Tiberius had completely recreated it from Tony’s memory, down to the placement of loose pebbles. Dreamvision really was a marvel.

“Isn’t it?” Ty’s hand settled on Tony’s shoulder, rubbing at the dark fabric of the suit the younger man had worn to Howard Stark’s funeral. “It’s not too late, Tony. We can still do great things together. Or are you afraid of leaving those _friends_ of yours behind?”

Laughter drifted through the air, horrifyingly familiar. Gravel crunched underfoot as figures began to melt out of the shadows and into the street. Tony stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the existence of his loved ones’ false reflections.

_they’re not real they’re not real they’re not real_

“You shouldn’t. They all leave eventually,” Tiberius murmured lowly into his ear. The phantoms turned away, walking into the distance and out of sight. He nipped Tony’s ear, but Tony didn’t even flinch. He stared up and ahead, thinking of blue eyes and warm hugs, of his friends and how they’d never given up on him.

He took a deep breath. “You need to stop this, Tiberius. You need to turn this off and let us out before one of us gets hurt.” _Because I will not surrender_ went unsaid but not unheard.

A sound of frustration. “You never make anything easy, do you Tony?” Ty snarled, and then the suit’s systems were failing and he was falling-

\- - -

The flight of stairs up to the second floor seemed strangely long, and the doors between him and the one hewn from solid oak had apparently multiplied. When Steve finally reached it, he had to lean his forehead against the wood and just _breathe_.

_If you need it,_ Tony had said, _if you think the world needs Captain America again._

Well, this wasn’t the _world_ in need _,_ precisely, but it was pretty important. Steve steadied his breaths, trying to work up the courage to put his hand on the door knob.

_Tony does not need me to rescue him,_ he thought, _but I’m damn well not going to be left behind. Not this time._

He pushed the door open.

The lights came on automatically this time, no fumbling for a light switch necessary. The clear walls around the uniform Tony had so carefully created for him slid away at the first touch of Steve’s hand against the glass. He ghosted careful fingers across the fabric, allowing himself just a moment of nostalgia.

The original Captain America costume had been just that – a costume. A gimmick. It had been born when Bucky had been cracking wise, saying they should paint Steve up in the stars and stripes so the Nazis knew exactly who they were dealing with. They’d laughed then, but the idea clung to Steve like a limpet, until he was drawing out designs on scraps of paper during downtime.

Unbeknownst to him, his fellow soldiers found one of those designs, and thus began the biggest open secret amongst the close-knit Commandos. Fabric was purchased wherever it could be found, pieces hastily sewn together by firelight and during long trips in the backs of rickety jeeps on bumpy roads. The Commandos had presented the darn thing to him on his birthday, when he’d been feeling rather low. While he’d never said it out loud, that loud, poorly made eyesore had done more to lift his spirits than any soft bed could have.

They’d cajoled Steve into actually wearing it, at which point he’d given up on all pretense of dignity and just started showing off like a particularly shameless burlesque girl. That would have been the end of it, had a secret HYDRA convoy not passed by with enough munitions to blow a city sky-high. Then there hadn’t been enough time to think about what he was wearing, and a journalist snapped a photo of him, which wound up in the papers back home, and – well, apparently the rest was history. When the Commandos arrived at the next base, Steve had been presented with a properly-fabricated uniform in a familiar red-white-and-blue, along with a certain vibranium-adamantium alloy shield. What had started as a joke had unwittingly become a national icon.

The suit Tony created was anything but a gimmick. It was form-fitting but not tight, allowing for a complete range of motion. The fabric was stretchy and strangely slick, matte and hard to grip. His gloves and boots were some kind of faux-leather and reinforced without being too bulky. Steve opted not to put on the cowl, so it hung behind his neck like a strange sort of hood.

He straightened, exquisitely aware of the intangible weight that had settled on his shoulders the moment he put on the uniform. Steve Rogers may have entered that room, but it was Captain America who walked out of it.

\- - -

“But here’s the thing, Tony,” Tiberius, no, Ty was not a _giant fucking caterpillar_ , “I don’t _need_ to sublimate you. Because this is _my_ world, and you’re already a part of it.

“Haven’t you wondered how I’ve been able to control you this whole time?” The Tiber-pillar crawled around him in lazy circles, occasionally catching its hand on the blue and white pinafore dress the real Tiberius had imagined Tony into. “I mean, you’re _smarter_ than I am, aren’t you? More clever, more insightful.” The Tiber-pillar’s face twisted into a hideous sneer. “You’re supposed to be _better_ than I am, aren’t you? So why can’t you escape?”

Tony didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer, not anymore, because Ty had taken that from him too, with a pretty white ribbon over his lips that seemed heavier than any weight.

“All I have to do is _think,”_ and oh god Tony was going to have nightmares about bugs after this, he had _no_ desire to know what it was like to hug a giant caterpillar, “and you’re at my mercy. Isn’t it _swell?”_

\- - -

“So, anything?” he heard Pepper ask, her words echoing down the hall.

“I talked to Gerard.” Howard’s voice was terse and stressed. Steve didn’t blame him. “Two things: apparently, Dreamvision is some kind of VR simulator, but Tiberius has also been working on another, private project, related but not under Stone Media purview. Gerard said he thought Tiberius might be trying for a corporate takeover. Bruce confirmed the Dreamvision thing, but he’s still looking for any ghosts that might lead to something more.”

“Well that’s just great,” Pepper said shortly. Steve stood just outside the door, waiting for the others to finish their conversation before entering. “Jocasta, locations?”

“Cross-referencing the specs of the Dreamvision against my list of suspected locales. I have one result remaining: a warehouse rented under the name Smith, T. A. It appears to be drawing the requisite amount of power necessary to power at least one of the Dreamvision apparatuses while also producing the requisite heat and energy signatures. A warehouse in Queens.”

“A _warehouse_ in _Queens_? Talk about unoriginal. What’s security like?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Rhodey’s voice. “Stone will be expecting Rescue or War Machine or both, maybe even Iron Man.”

“So let’s send someone he doesn’t expect,” Steve said, firm and confident as everyone looked at him, startled twice over by his sudden entrance _and_ his appearance.

“Steve!” Bruce blinked owlishly at him. “You’re, uh-”

Steve smiled at him. “Suited up and ready for action, sir. I sincerely doubt he’s managed to connect the annoying blond guy who stole Tony away from him with Captain America, do you?”

“The public doesn’t know you’re back,” Howard said, looking more heartened than he had since this mess had started. “He couldn’t possibly expect _you_. This might just work.”

The other three looked uneasy. “Steve, are you sure about this?” Pepper asked hesitantly.

Steve - _Cap_ , he might was well embrace the image lock, stock and barrel - gazed at her, feeling the calm that years at war had instilled in him. “I’m quite certain. Tony,” and here Steve took a breath, “Tony made this for me, in case I ever felt Captain America was needed again. And goddamnit, if I can’t use what Erskine gave me to save the man I love, then what’s the point?”

If anyone was shocked to hear his declaration, no one commented on it. “I’m in,” Rhodey said finally, “but you’re gonna need back up.”

“I can have the Hulk at the ready,” Bruce said.

“Rhodey and I’ll suit up, Mr. Stark can co-ordinate from the Tower,” Pepper threw in. Then she winced and said to Howard, “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’d much rather get in a suit myself,” Howard mused, quirking a grin, “but you’re right. Someone needs to co-ordinate this and keep SHIELD off our backs for the interim. At least until we know the leak isn’t in their ranks.”

“Then let’s get going,” Steve said. “Time’s running out.”

_I just hope we’re not too late._

\- - -

“Here’s the thing, Tony,” Ty stroked a hand over the naked skin of Tony’s back. “The thing is, I’ve already won. Your father can’t save you. Your buddy Rhodes can’t save you. Your little boytoy certainly can’t save you - and might I mention how flattered I am, by the way? You picked a fuck buddy who even looked like me, I appreciate it.” His lips curled up, but it certainly wasn’t a smile that graced his face. “I’d have appreciated it more if he’d left us alone, but I can roll with the punches.

“I’ve disabled your Extremis - and yes, I knew about your ace-in-the-hole, I really have to thank Glenn for that sound bite. I’ve taken you, body and mind.”

He cupped Tony’s face with a gentle hand, stroking his cheek with a thumb. “Just submit, love,” he crooned. “Submit to me. I’ll be so _good_ to you, I swear. You’ll never want for anything. Don’t you ever just want to turn it off up here?” He tapped a finger against Tony’s temple. “I can make it happen. Just give into me, Anthony. It’ll be so good, don’t you think?”

 

\- - -

Steve hid in the dark crevices of an alley, staying low to minimize possible detection. Steve’s shield was a comforting weight on his arm, and the not-actually-a-backpack wasn’t too heavy either. Nothing that would keep him from getting into the warehouse, at least.

The warehouse itself was completely innocuous, standing amongst its brethren and looking particularly shabby. Howard had hacked and remote disabled the security system, so it was just a matter of getting in undetected by human interference.

Which wasn’t too difficult. There was only one guard that either Steve or Howard (who was studying heat signatures) could find. He was taking a smoke break on an upper balcony, likely secure in the knowledge that he was perfectly safe. After all, who could scale the sheer side of an aluminum-sided building?

_That’ll teach you to choose your employers wisely_ , Steve thought as he dropped down from the roof and dispatched the man with a quick knock to the head. _Especially employers who kidnap geniuses with super-soldier boyfriends._ He handed the guard off to an invisible Rescue, who would drop him off by the War Machine.

Luckily, the balcony door was unlocked. Steve eased it open, taking care not to make it squeak. “Take the first left you find,” Howard’s voice sounded from his earpiece once the door was shut again, “and then go as far in as you can. That _should_ take you right to the Dreamvision machines.

Howard was right; less than two minutes later, and Steve was on a catwalk above a wide-open room. Below, the center of the room was occupied by two metal pods set head-to-head against each other, while a large bank of computers blinked and flickered ominously.

When Howard gave him the all-clear, Steve dropped down next to the pods to get a closer look. He knew that on some level, he shouldn’t have been surprised, but the ex-soldier’s heart still leapt to his throat when he saw Tony’s face beneath the thick glass. A quick glance confirmed that Tiberius was in the other pod.

“Stone’s got himself and Tony hooked up to the Dreamvision machines,” Steve hissed into the tiny mic that rested against his cheekbone. “There’s some kind of computer by the wall, you might want to deploy the camera to get a better look.”

“Deploying drone,” Jocasta intoned, and a little puck-shaped robot detached itself from the backpack. It hovered just over Steve’s shoulder before flying over the console bank.

“That terminal isn’t connected to the network,” Howard said, frustrated. “Nor anything wireless. And I don’t want to risk plugging the drone in just in case Stone left some surprises in the system. Think you can be my hands, Captain?”

“Absolutely,” Steve replied. He only risked one glance back at the pods, at the one that had become so dear to him. _Hang in there, Tony,_ he thought grimly, _we’re getting you out of here._

\- - -

The thing was, Tiberius overestimated how clever he was. Tony knew this, because he could _feel_ Extremis as it came back online, piece by bit by inch. It was a warm buzz at the base of his skull, a gentle touch prodding at his brain. All it had taken was a stall for time, and Tony’s ‘ace-in-the-hole’ was back to full functionality.

_Just in time,_ he thought. He didn’t smirk, but it was a close thing

“You know what I think?” Tony said, to Tiberius’ obvious and utter surprise, “I think you’re way too full of yourself, and that I should have listened to Rhodey when he said you were a jerk. ‘Cause not only are you a jerk, you are _fucking insane_.”

Ty reeled back as if he’d been struck. “How _dare_ you,” he roared, but Tony had finally had enough.

“What do I think, _Tiberius?_ What I think is that you let your arrogance twist you into something terrible. Because yeah, you might be attractive on the outside, but up here?” And even though it felt like his limbs were made of cement and he was dragging them through molasses, he reached out and tapped a finger against Ty’s temple. “Up here, you are a fucking disaster.”

It was Tony’s turn to grin as Tiberius stared at him with something akin to horror, because Tiberius _finally_ got it, finally understood that he’d lost, that he’d never had a chance at winning in the first place. Not while Tony had Extremis on his side.

Tony _did_ smirk, then. “Shall we take a look?

\- - -

Rhodey had been right. The system was booby-trapped; not only did it have a virus planted and set to go off if it detected interfacing from one of the suits (the most expedient method of hacking), there were no less than five hidden camera triggers set to do... something if they identified anything resembling Iron Man, War Machine or Rescue. They hadn’t figured out what that _something_ was yet, but Steve was content with not knowing.

Unfortunately, all they’d learned from the terminal was that there was sweet fuck all they could do to help get Tony out. “It’s been overridden to respond to the thoughts of whoever’s in it,” Howard said, frustrated. “All we can do is wait and hope for the best.”

So Steve had abandoned the console to stand next to Tony’s pod, a hand resting on the glass.

“Tony,” Steve said, completely out of ideas. “Tony, I don’t know if you can hear me, but - please, please wake up. I’m not sure I can do this without you.”

\- - -

Tiberius _screamed_ as the dark void around them tore away into violent colour. The sound made Tony hesitate. This man had been his friend, once. Hadn’t he?

That was a mistake, because Ty immediately surged forward and tried to take back his control. It took some desperate maneuvering to keep him from obliterating Tony completely. He willed himself into his armour, feeling more confident when metal closed around him, even if it wasn’t real.

“I don’t know what your problem is, Ty,” Iron Man’s modulated voice rang out in the chaos surrounding them, “but this ends now.”

“My problem? _My problem?!”_ Tiberius howled as his body melted into the ether. Tony dodged wildly as a fleshy appendage materialized mid-punch. “My _problem_ is that I _REFUSE TO BE BESTED BY YOU!”_

The technicolour hurricane finally came to a stop, which was good because Tony was starting to get seasick. A red-orange sky bloomed over a metal-garnished wasteland while a particularly pointy citadel rose up beneath Iron Man’s repulsors. And just in case Tony hadn’t collected enough nightmare fuel to last him the next decade, Tiberius’ overly-massive head and torso appeared to be fused to the citadel’s highest tower, skin and sinew melting into unyielding steel. Cords and cables pierced his flesh, like worms in an old corpse.

“ _ALWAYS, ALWAYS I HAD TO LIVE WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT YOU WERE SMARTER THAN ME, FASTER THAN ME, WORKED HARDER THAN ME.”_ The Tiberius-thing swiped at Iron Man with an arm that seemed to be half-repulsor gauntlet. Not the shooting half, luckily. _“ANYTHING I DID, YOU DID BETTER! YOU WERE THE OBSTACLE THAT PREVENTED ME FROM ACHIEVING THE RECOGNITION I DESERVED.”_

The creature’s eyes were blank and white over his insane, frothing grin. _“NOT ANYMORE. TODAY, THE GREAT ANTHONY STARK FALLS!”_

Tony blasted a spire that suddenly came to life and tried to stab him. “Ty, I don’t _understand!”_ he cried out sincerely. “I never did any of that! I mean, if I invented something before you got the chance, then I’m sorry! But I never tried to upstage you, I never wanted to make you feel like you were less than me! Hell, all I ever wanted was to be more like _you!_ ”

Tiberius either didn’t hear him, or no longer cared about what he had to say. The tower-creature shrieked wordlessly, and Tony felt the world around them shudder. _He’s losing control over the simulation._

Tony closed his eyes. _I’m sorry, Ty, but I won’t die for your neuroses._

Then he _reached_ with Extremis, down into the source code of the Dreamvision, found the lines he was looking for and _broke-_

Ty’s despairing wail was the last thing Tony heard as he fell up into darkness.

\- - -

“Please, Tony, _please_. Wake up now.”

And wonder of wonders, Tony _did._

It was not a gradual thing; one minute his eyes were closed, and in the next, bright blue orbs were staring up at him, looking as surprised as Steve felt.

“ _Tony!_ ” Steve cried, and then the glass slid away and Tony was launching himself into Steve’s arms, hale and whole.

“ _Steve!_ Jesus fuck, I did not expect to see _you_ here.” He looked Steve up and down in obvious delight. “My my, look at _you._ It fits better than I expected, Cap.”

“Is that Tony?” Howard asked excitedly, and Steve winced. He’d forgotten about the earpiece.

“That it is,” Steve replied, and politely ignored what might have been classified as a sob of relief. “I’m handing over the armour, we’ll be out ASAP.”

“You brought my backpack? Gimme, gimme!” Tony made grabby hands until Steve gave him the backpack under the watchful eye of the drone’s camera.

Camera. Armour.

“Wait, Tony-!” Steve yelped, but it was too late, metal plates already sliding over skin and locking into place.

Which, of course, set of the terminal’s security system.

“Oh, great,” Tony said in Iron Man’s measured tones as security bots suddenly started pouring in from all directions. Their own drone beeped in alarm. “I see Ty arranged for us to have some playmates. That was nice of him.”

“Did he hurt you?” Steve demanded as he bashed a couple of bots. It was very cathartic. “Stone. Tiberius. Did he hurt you?”

“No more than any other villain has.” It was strange hearing Iron Man speak over the clamour at the same time Tony’s voice said the same thing in his earpiece. “In fact, he hurt me a lot less than, say, Justin Hammer, so he’s one up there.”

“That isn’t really what we want to hear, Tony,” Howard still spoke with a note of relief. “Repeat after me: the bad man didn’t cause any permanent damage.”

Iron Man blasted another robot and wound up back-to-back with Steve. “I’m fine, guys,” he said. Steve could almost hear his smile. “I promise, I’m totally okay.”

The shield tore another three security bots apart. “You’d better be,” Steve said, “because if not, I’m going to sit on you while Pepper and Rhodey tear you a new one.”

“Is that a promise?”

War Machine crashed in through the ceiling, downing a dozen new robots in a haze of bullets. “No flirting over comms, please,” Rhodey groaned. “It’s bad enough when you two do it public.”

“I think it’s cute!” He couldn’t see Rescue anywhere, but judging by the pile of broken machinery that was slowly building in a corner, Steve could assume that Pepper was somewhere in the room.

The ground shook suddenly. “I’m guessing that’s the Hulk?” Tony asked.

“You guessed right, Tin Man,” The Hulk’s grey face peered in through the hole in the ceiling. “Need a hand in there?”

“No thanks,” Steve grunted. He flung the shield under Iron Man’s outstretched arm and punched another bot in the head. “I think we’ve got it.”

Hulk nodded and disappeared. A short lull in the fighting gave Tony enough time to retract the faceplate and grin at Steve. “Ready to finish up here, Captain?”

Steve felt like he was flying. He grinned back. “Only if you can keep up, Shellhead.”

“‘Only if I can keep up,’ he says.” The faceplate snapped shut again. “We’ll see about that!”

\- - -

They retreated to the Tower at Howard’s insistence. Not that anyone fought him over it, but Howard shown up onsite specifically to inform the NYPD that all parties involved were tired and in need of medical examination, which the facilities at the Tower were more than prepared for. Luckily, the cops in question were fond of Iron Man and only gave them a little shit about calling firefights in beforehand.

The trip back had been quiet. Howard drove himself and the newly de-hulked Bruce back on the motorbike the elder Stark had rode in on. The three pilots, of course, flew themselves back, and Steve and Tony had exchanged one look and silently agreed that Iron Man would be carrying Captain America for the duration. That was a little awkward - ultimately they settled on a sort of hug-and-fly position, Steve’s arm around Tony’s shoulders and Tony’s arm around Steve’s waist as he balanced carefully on one of Tony’s boots - but it was not _nearly_ enough to make Tony willing to give up the closeness he so desperately wanted.

When they got back, Bruce changed into some new clothes while Tony endured the motherhenning of his father and friends.

(Well, if anyone _asked_ Tony would say he was enduring it; in reality, he was more than happy to be motherhenned.)

Steve - Cap? - had only unglued himself from Tony’s side just long enough to throw back his cowl, strip off his gloves and set the shield off to one side. Currently, the blond was standing next to the examination bed Tony was sitting on, one of Tony’s hands clasped carefully between both of his bigger hands.

Pepper and Rhodey were there, too, having dragged a couple of comfy chairs into the room. Pepper was asleep already, and Rhodey looked like he wasn’t far off from the same. Howard was with Bruce, both of whom entered the room just as Tony started dozing off against Steve’s shoulder.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” he asked sleepily as Bruce took a look at some of the machines Tony had been hooked up to.

“The verdict is that I’m gonna have grey hairs by the time I’m twenty-five because of you, _that’s_ the verdict,” Rhodey said.

Bruce smiled. “Looking good, so far,” he answered, “though I’m going to ask Steve and Jocasta to keep an eye on you overnight, and to let me know if any abnormalities crop up while you sleep. Are you _sure_ you can’t get me a copy of the Dreamvision’s altered software? I’d really like to make sure that it won’t affect Extremis, at least.”

“Sorry, doc,” Tony leaned further into Steve side and squeezed his hand. Steve immediately squeezed back. “You’ll just have to take my word at it, ‘cause first I’d need a hardline into the pods, and then I’d have to go back and undo all the damage I did, which, no.” His stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, making Tony wince. “Any chance of food in the near future?”

“Food’s on its way.” Howard had taken the spot on Tony’s other side and wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. “And I have to agree with James, in that you scared the crap out of us, son. Me especially.”

Tony didn’t really need to respond to that with anything but a smile for his father. A few weeks after being freed from the Mandarin, Howard had mentioned how one of his greatest fears had been that Gene would grab Tony to use as a tool against Howard. The past twenty hours had basically been the culmination of the elder Stark’s worse nightmares, and Tony could see that his father was far more affected by it than he let on. _Back to weekly therapy sessions again. Sorry, Dad._

“What’s gonna happen to Tiberius?” he asked, trying to get his father’s mind onto other things.

Predictably, Howard frowned. “NYPD said they’d deal with him, but in all honesty I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to him other than that he gets put away for a long time. I’m much more concerned about you, Tony. Speaking of, Bruce, any other news for us?”

There was discussion over the details of Tony’s condition, but he didn’t bother paying attention. Food came shortly after that, which Steve and Bruce practically inhaled. Tony ate his fair share, too, but about halfway through the meal he started dozing off. He never really fell _asleep_ , but the chatter of the over-crowded examination room was a distant thing beyond the warmth of Steve’s body.

At some point, he was vaguely aware of being lifted (carried?), and then there were soft sheets being tucked up to his chin.

“Steve,” Tony whimpered without opening his eyes. The man in question shushed him soothingly and crawled under the covers as well.

Tony sighed contentedly and snuggled into the circle of Steve’s arms, who chuckled and said, “Sleep now, Tony, I’m right here.”

He did. For quite a while, actually, because while the red light of dawn had been creeping along the horizon during the flight home, the skylights in Steve’s bedroom - and it was Steve’s bedroom they were sleeping in, wasn’t it? - were dark again.

Steve mumbled something against Tony’s shoulder, and he couldn’t help but smile. _This is nice. We should do this more often._

“Hey,” he whispered, because they probably needed to eat at some point, “are you awake?”

His bedmate groaned and stretched, pressing their bodies together in a way that would be positively delicious if Tony hadn’t felt like an over-wrung cloth. “I am now,” Steve rasped and opened his eyes, naked affection making them shine.

Tony swallowed reflexively. “So, does Dad know I’m here?” he asked, mostly teasing.

“Of course.” His boyfriend rubbed a hand down Tony’s back, comforting and oddly not distracting at all. “He helped me get you undressed, after all.”

Which of course had Tony automatically looking under the covers, but both he and Steve were still wearing boxers and, in Steve’s case, an undershirt. “Well that’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Not at all.” Steve sunk his free hand into dark hair. “No one wanted to wake you up. You’ve had a rough day, after all.”

“So’ve you,” Tony replied, bucking his head into Steve’s hand to encourage petting. Steve hummed and obliged to Tony’s unspoken request.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, lying chest to chest, wound together like they would never come apart. Finally Tony had to ask, “Why’d you do it?”

“Why’d I do what?”

“You know. Put on the suit. You didn’t have to, I know that you weren’t keen on becoming Captain America again.”

Steve’s hands stilled, and Tony felt a spike of panic rise in the back of his throat. Before he could take it back, though, a large hand came up to cradle Tony’s cheek as the ex-soldier said, “You told me that the suit was there if I felt that Captain America was ever needed. The thing is, Tony, me becoming Captain America was completely accidental. Captain America was created during a series of odd events, nothing more. But eventually, that title started weighing me down. Some days it felt like I had the hopes of an entire nation resting on my shoulders, which was both stupid and arrogant in retrospect.

“But,” Steve said over Tony’s protests, “but the weight was there, and it felt like more than I could bear some days. But I did, because I wanted to make a difference in the name of my country. I wanted to do my best to show what America stood for: freedom, justice, honour, all of that. Which was why I didn’t want to try to shoulder that weight again when you woke me up and I found out that our country - or at least, our government and the Army - held none of that sacred anymore.

“However. When Tiberius took you, I realized something: Captain America was whatever and _who_ ever I made him to be. I don’t have to force myself into a role I think Captain America should fit; I’m going to act the way I think Captain America _should_ act, and make the world’s idea of who Captain America is shift accordingly.”

“And who is Captain America?” Tony asked softly.

Steve smiled at him just as softly and brushed his thumb across Tony’s cheekbone. “Captain America,” he said softly, “is a man who won’t stand for injustice. He’s a man who wants to see wrongs set right, a man who seeks freedom for all, not just some. Captain America,” and here Steve pressed his lips to Tony’s forehead, “is a man who loves another man very much, and will do just about anything to see him safe.”

_Oh._ “Oh,” he breathed, because it felt like all of the air had suddenly rushed out of Tony’s lungs.

“Oh?” Steve parroted, and it took the younger man a moment to realize his boyfriend was _teasing._ “That’s all you’ve got to say, ya mug?”

Which of course sent Tony sputtering with laughter. “Well what else am I supposed to say, dork? And really, who even calls anyone _mug_ anymore, c’mon, I thought we got you all caught up on today’s slang, Steve, I am disappointed-” Tony laughed even as Steve’s smiling lips crashed against his own.

One of Tony’s hands cupped Steve’s face as they parted, mirroring Steve’s hand on his own. “I love you too, you know,” he said sincerely, eyes never straying from Steve’s baby blues.

Steve smiled right back and murmured, “I know, Tony. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential triggers: Unwanted physical contact and nakedness that Tony explicitly states he does not want. Uh, I don't know if this falls under 'mind control' or not, but there are times where Tony is not in control of his own 'body,' so keep that in mind as well.
> 
> Just the epilogue, now. I am going to try to get at least a few oneshots up between now and November, but I promise nothing.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote, folks. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

“That was a waste of my resources.”

Tiberius Stone glared at the man across the dank concrete room. “That was _hardly_ a waste, Glenn. True, Tony may have gotten away, but the Dreamvision was a _success._ I entered his mind, I had him completely at my mercy!”

_“And then you lost him!”_ Glenn Talbot all but _screamed._ “The one man I could use to take down the Hulk, and _you lost him_. If it weren’t for your damnable ego, Stone, I would have had the key to destroying that menace. Instead, you made it look like one of the good guys! I should have left you in that cell to rot.”

Stone huffed and blew a few strands of hair out of his eyes. “I hardly needed your help,” he drawled. “I’ve more than enough money hidden away, even if _daddy dearest_ has completely severed all ties from me. Grease the right palms and I’d have been long gone, with or without you.”

Talbot grunted. “Whatever. Now you’re a wanted criminal and the word at the Capitol is that I’m going up for _treason._ So what do we do now?”

“Well, I know what _I’m_ doing,” Stone smirked and sank further into the easy chair he was sprawled across. “I’m either going to be on a private jet, heading for my private tropical island in international waters, or I’m going to go see if Advanced Idea Mechanics is looking for an engineer a cut above their usual brand. I’d offer to recommend you to them, but AIM doesn’t usually hire plebes like you.”

“As if I’d want to join those neo-Nazi bastards,” the former general spat. “Their leader is a giant talking head. How utterly ridiculous.”

“I’d say ‘your loss,’ but that implies you have something to lose.” The blond man levered himself off the chair and headed for the door. “I’d suggest you figure something out for yourself sooner rather than later. I know from experience that Howard Stark is a particularly stubborn man, and when he finds out you’ve targeted both his son _and_ his best friend, you’re going to want to find a particularly dark hole to hide in. Because you won’t be able to outrun him.”

Pausing in the doorway, Stone spared his ex-partner in crime one last glance. “Good luck, General,” he said airily, “because you’re going to need it.”

The door scraped shut, taking any outside light with it.

\- - -

Nick Fury, newly re-instated as the General of SHIELD, smiled pleasantly at his guests. “I’m glad you could join me, gentlemen,” he said honestly. “Captain, it’s an honour to properly meet you. Mr. Stark, I want to extend my thanks to you, your father, and Mrs. Rhodes for taking on Congress for me. I realize that SHIELD was incidental to your purposes, but without you, I can safely say I would not be here today.”

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark glanced at each other, obviously unsure of how to respond. “You’re welcome, General,” Tony eventually responded, “and I guess I should say thank you for trusting me. For trusting us.”

“And I believe I owe you some thanks as well, both for digging me up and for not letting Talbot and his cronies have me,” Steve added.

“Not at all, boys. Which actually brings me to what I wanted to talk to you both about.”

Tony’s face darkened. “We heard. Ty’s escaped and Talbot’s nowhere to be found,” he said, crossing his arms and subtly leaning towards his compatriot. Nick wondered if the young man knew how telling that was, or even that he was doing it at all. Probably not, on both counts.

“I apologize for that.” He grimaced slightly. “It’s taken some time to sort out just what Talbot got his dirty hands on. Between that and getting caught up on everything that SHIELD’s missed while were... indisposed, no one knew that Stone might try something or had the kind of tech to disable Extremis - even temporarily - before it was too late.”

“Understandable,” Rogers said, voice clipped and hard, “but we would appreciate it if this sort of thing didn’t happen again.”

Nick smirked behind steepled hands. “Noted, Captain. I don’t suppose you’re interested in joining our ranks, by the way?”

“Not at this time, sir,” and _now_ the World War II soldier seemed to remember the rules of decorum, coming to a proper parade rest and offering Fury the deference his rank deserved. They both ignored Stark’s snickering. “Thank you for the offer, sir, and I’d like to keep my options open for the future. Right now, however, I think I’m going to enjoy my retirement.”

“Indeed.” He waited a beat before dropping the bomb neither Stark nor Rogers were expecting. “And does your retirement involve coming out to the media, both as Captain America and the significant other of the heir to the Stark fortune?”

As predicted, both men were visibly shocked by his statement. “Uh,” Rogers stuttered, “well, I... guess?”

“That’s something you’ll both want to think about in the coming days,” Fury gave them each a rather pointed look, before sitting back and saying, “but enough of that. Rogers, I believe I heard you mention that you’d like to see the view from the bridge? Agent Romanov will be happy to show you. I need to speak with Tony for a moment.”

Stark and Rogers looked at each other, silently communicating. The brunet shrugged, and apparently that was an agreement because Rogers smiled, pecked his boyfriend on the cheek and left with Natasha (who had been standing outside the door, eavesdropping). Even from his desk, Fury could see that the man’s ears were bright red.

Once they were alone, Nick fixed his eye on the young genius. “So I hear you may be interested in starting your own team,” he said nonchalantly, and enjoyed the way Stark jumped for a second time in two minutes. “What, mine just not good enough for you?”

“No, sir!” Tony yelped immediately, “I’ve just been thinking, what with Talbot and all-”

“Better to have a response team not under SHIELD’s purview, I know.” He smirked again. “A good tactician forms plans for every imaginable scenario, and then asks his peers to suggest some more. I anticipated that a superhero team might form outside government control; it’s part of why I suggested that you join my team when I did. You weren’t ready to be on a team, then, but it planted the seed of an idea in your mind. Whether you let that seed grow or wither, well, that I couldn’t anticipate.

“You’re a good man, Tony Stark, an intelligent, courageous man. You’re on your way to being very charismatic, and even without that people are attracted to you and your particular brand of insanity. If anyone is to form and lead a team of over-powered, damaged individuals - because we both know that superheroes tend to be intrinsically damaged - it’s you.”

Stark stared at him with disbelief. “Uh, thank you, sir. I think.”

“I wasn’t complimenting you, but you can take it that way if it makes you feel better.” The balance of snark restored, Fury handed over an eight-terabyte hardrive. “You may be interested in what’s on there,” he answered before the question was asked. “I trust you know that allowing that drive to fall into the wrong hands would be very, very dangerous?”

Tony nodded. “Yessir. Thank you, General Fury. Uh, anything else?”

Nick waved him off. “Go join your boyfriend, before he thinks I’m trying to draft you. And while you’re here-”

“Right engine maintenance, yeah, I can hear it.” Stark offered a sloppy salute and threw a “gotta go!” over his shoulder before bolting out of the room.

Leaning back into his seat, Nick Fury smiled. Another successfully executed plan, over and done with. Time to get to work.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 27/06/2013: So now that I've finished confusing myself by wreaking havoc on this poor fic, I come back and see that I didn't even properly end my last endnote. :/// Ah well, over and done with I suppose.
> 
> I apologize for taking so long to edit this thing; I could barely look at it for about two weeks afterwords, much to my surprise.
> 
> If you see any glaring plot holes, grammar, spelling or other errors, or just have a question for me about this fic, feel free to comment or contact me at my tumblr, twillwrites.tumblr.com.
> 
> This will definitely be a series; I plan on writing the sequel to this for my CapIronman Big Bang fic, and I have five or six in-universe one-shots in various stages of being written. Not to mention a couple of meta-esque pieces regarding elements of this universe that don't really fall under the category of 'fanfiction' as well.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for "Snow White and Sleeping Beauty"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/824805) by [Pinkelephant42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkelephant42/pseuds/Pinkelephant42)




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